


Out For a Jog

by Brenna_Fae



Series: Adventures of a Fan Girl [1]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bathroom Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhibitionism, F/M, Feelings, Flirting, Fluff, Food Kink, Hair-pulling, Humor, Ice Play, In Public, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Misha and Vicki are still very much together and very in love, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Punishment, Reader-Insert, Safewords, Sexual Content, Skype, Slow Build, Smut, Subdrop, Teasing, Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators, no infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:36:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 63,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7077220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenna_Fae/pseuds/Brenna_Fae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An innocent tweet at a convention leads to complications and an unforgettable weekend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tweeting Gets You in Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first go at this, I hope its okay! I promise there will definitely be smut, just not in this first chapter. I'm about halfway through the second chapter and will post soon. Bear with me! Also, new to the whole tagging thing so if you have any suggestions please let me know!  
> Oh, almost forgot, Misha is in an open relationship so no infidelity here.

Chapter 1

You adjust your position in bed a couple of times before realizing you aren’t falling back to sleep any time soon. You open your eyes and glance around. Your roommates are all still happily sleeping off the after effects of too much fun at Karaoke last night. Squinting at the clock next to the bed you groan when you make out the bright red 5:17 on the clock. Four hours, that’s how long it’s been since you fell into the shared bed. Too early to shower and risk waking up your roommates. No need to take the chance that they may take their revenge after you've had a few tonight at the concert.

Crawling out of bed you stretch your stiff muscles and realize your internal clock is going to kick your butt this weekend but you did promise yourself that if you had any time at all you would try to get in a work out. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are that you don’t want this weekend to be your excuse to back slide. Picking up your phone you figure it isn’t likely anyone else is crazy enough but why not.

_ Going for a jog, anyone care to join meet me at lobby entrance at 5:45 #Nashcon _

Off you send it to the Twitterverse with no expectation of a response. In fact you are so certain no one will respond you don’t even brush your hair before putting it up in a ponytail or put on any make up. You also opt to keep your pajamas on, although you do have the decency to throw on a bra, brush your teeth and put deodorant on. You aren’t a complete savage after all. You put your sneakers on and fill your water bottle up before grabbing your phone and earbuds and heading out the door in the direction of the lobby.

Getting to the entrance of the lobby at 5:43 you aren’t entirely surprised to see no one waiting out there for you. Walking over to the bench on the walkway you put your earbuds in and throw on some Louden Swain for an early start to getting pumped for the concert. You’re leaning over with your foot up on the bench when you feel someone tap you on the shoulder from behind. Surprised that someone else was even conscious at this hour you turn around with a big smile as you pull your earbuds out, glad to not have to punish yourself alone.

“Hey, I didn’t think..oh fuck...:”

Yes, that is the charming grace that spills from your lips when you find your grimy, unwashed just out of bed self face to face with him. You hadn’t even heard that he was in town yet but still there he is  with a big ole smirk on his lips. You can’t tell because he’s  wearing sunglasses but you're pretty sure his bright blue eyes are probably sparkling with held back laughter. 

“Well that’s certainly one way to get a work out but how about we give jogging a try first and see how that goes?” Misha suggests followed by that adorable laugh of his. 

You realize your make up free mouth is hanging open (thank goodness you at least brushed your teeth) so you snap it shut and take an instinctive step back, remembering just a second too late that you were standing right in front of the bench. As the back of your leg hits the bench and your knees buckle Misha’s hands shoot out to grab your arms and steady you. 

“Woah easy now. Don’t worry I only bite with permission.”

It’s fascinating how his voice can have a comforting tone but still send shivers down your spine.

“What are you doing here?” you ask incredulously. 

Somewhere along the line you seem to have forgotten how to speak like a polite, reasonable adult. Of course it may have something to do with the fact that Misha’s hands are still on your arms, a fact that both of you seem to become aware of as you look down at them and Misha pulls his hands away.

“I was invited!” he says holding up his phone which is open to the tweet you sent out a half an hour ago. “I’m glad I was trolling the hashtag to see if anyone did anything juicy yesterday. I was so beat when I got in that I fell asleep way too early and now I’m awake way too early. When I saw your tweet I figured why not? I was planning on going later anyway. This will just give me time to relax over breakfast.”

Misha waits, looking at you expectantly. You realize that this is the point in the conversation that you are supposed to speak but all you can manage is a weak “Oh.” This graces you with another of those magical laughs that you have only ever heard from a distance or on Youtube.

You want to enjoy it but the embarrassment from not being able to string two words together in front of this incredibly intelligent and well spoken man is becoming overwhelming. Your fantasies of meeting him and stunning him with your knowledge and charm are quickly flying out of the window. Even worse, you can feel the slow burn and know from experience that all visible skin from the top of your v-neck Wayward AF shirt to the line of messy hair on your forehead is turning an unflattering shade of pink. Misha’s laugh dies down as he registers your current state and bless him he immediately takes control.

“So about jogging, did you have a particular area in mind?”

“Oh, I’m not from around here. This is only my second time here and my first trip I was in no state to be jogging.” You shrug and let out a small laugh. You can feel your internal temperature returning to normal as Misha takes a step back. “I was just going to jog around the outskirts of the resort. I figure it's a work out just walking around the inside so the outside has to be a pretty good distance.”

Misha nods and says “We could do that. Might get dicey though if anyone figures out I’m out here though. Now last year I found this trailer campground place that’s only a few minutes drive from here and as luck would have it my driver is up and ready in the car parked right over there if you’re interested.” Misha finishes with a gesture toward a small blue sedan parked nearby with the engine running.

“Really? Is that..is that alright? I don’t want to get in trouble with Adam and the others. It would really suck if I couldn’t come back.”

Misha shakes his head with a smile and places his hand gently on your shoulder to start leading you to the car. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He opens and closes your door for you before heading around the car to the other side and getting in. As you both get settled in Misha can tell by your stiff body language that you’re still nervous so as the car pulls out he starts asking questions about you. When he finds out where you are from he gets excited and starts talking  about trips he has had to your state and within seconds you fall into easy conversation about some of his favorite spots. So easy in fact that you don’t even realize that you’ve come to your destination until the car slows to a stop on the side of the roads, just inside the entrance.

Getting out you both fall into your own preparations. You feel another wave of embarrassment as you slip your phone into your pajama pants, wishing you had taken the time to dig through your luggage to find your leggings.  _ It’s cool, rubber duckies are the new sexy _ . You grimace and shake your head as you proceed to stretch your legs. Looking over at Misha as he stretches you start to feel a pit forming in your stomach. You didn’t really think about the fact that Misha is in much better shape than you. Clearing your throat you say, “Hey Misha, don’t worry about going ahead of me, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Well what would be the point of that? We came to jog together. Don’t wimp out on me now!” Misha says with a stern voice before he breaks into a grin and flashes you a wink ( _ wait, when did he take off his sunglasses?)  _ that makes you feel a little weak kneed. 

That certainly won’t help you keep up. You smile in spite of your trepidation, Misha’s good natured mood starting to rub off on you. The two of you finish stretching, grab your water bottles and head out. After a few minutes you hit a decent pace, Misha obviously holding back while you push yourself just a little harder than you might usually. You struggle at first but eventually manage to fall into comfortable conversation, talking about places you’ve both visited, when you first started jogging, books you like. 

You try talking tv shows and movies but find that this is probably the only area that you know more than Misha. You threaten to force him to sit through a Netflix binge when Misha cracks a joke about you forcing him to “Netflix and chill”. You in turn joke about it being the first time you’ve done so while using your handcuffs and collar before you manage to slap your hand over your mouth, your eyes going wide. Did that really just come out?  _ Filter, damn it!  _

You feel a familiar warmth start to creep up your neck. Afraid to look at Misha you stare down at the ground as a few precious breaths pass before you hear the wonderful sound of Misha’s laughter. You look up ahead and shake your head with a disbelieving grin, wondering how you are even here right now. 

You and Misha have been jogging for about a half an hour when he pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts fiddling with it. 

“Hey, I wanna do something, you game?” You look over at him with a slight feeling of alarm but you’re determined to prove you can handle whatever he throws at you, even if the mischievous look in his eyes is making your heart race. 

You shrug and nod your head not quite able to do anything but silently accept the challenge. However when Misha holds up his phone up in front of his face and you see he has his Facebook livestream up and ready to start you feel like you could easily strangle him right then and there. 

“Let's see who we can wake up” he says with a grin right before he goes live. As you hear him talking and you see the number of viewers shooting up you keep telling yourself that it’s fine, he isn’t going to put you on camera. That would be weird and it would make things super awkward for him. You keep thinking this right until you register him saying “....my jogging buddy over here tweeted out the invite.”

“Misha get that camera off me!” you exclaim with a force that surprises even you, “I’m all sweaty and jiggling!” Misha nearly trips over his own feet as he goes into a full body laugh that nearly has him in tears at the word “jiggling”. 

You try really hard to glare at him but can’t help but start to laugh too. Unfortunately this is not easy to do since you’re getting winded. Misha also seems to be having trouble keeping up the pace but that might have more to do with the fact that he can’t stop laughing. He manages to answer a few people on his livestream before signing off. He points to a small grassy spot with some shady trees you can see about an eighth of a mile down the road where the dirt road intersects with the paved road.

“How about we stop for a quick break there before we start our trip back?” he asks. You barely manage to get out a nod before you notice the glint in his eye. 

“Beat you there!” he yells before he takes off, not even trying to hold back. You can’t let this challenge go unanswered and ignore the fact that you’re already getting tired and still have the whole trip back and push yourself to top speed. 

As you near your goal your legs are on fire and your lungs are shutting down in protest but you’re shocked to find yourself not that far behind Misha. You make a big push as your feet hit the paved road and manage to throw yourself onto the soft grass only seconds after Misha. You both roll onto your backs looking up at the trees as your panting breath begins to slow.

“Hey, sit up, drink some water,” Misha says patting your leg “we don’t want to start cramping up after all that.” 

Groaning you sit up, sad to leave the cool ground. It may only be February but a Tennessee February is surprisingly warm. Shaking your head and laughing you reach for your water bottle, which you’ve just realized should’ve been in your hand. Looking around at Misha next to you sipping his water and then around at the ground you finally spot it. In your mad dash across the pavement the bottle slipped out of your hand forgotten.

You drag yourself onto your hands and knees and start crawling toward the bottle. You swear you hear Misha mumble something about the view but it’s lost when you see the state of your bottle. Evidently it hit the pavement a little too hard and there is now a long crack in the side that the rest of your precious water is currently escaping from. You grasp it up, flopping over onto your back shaking the few drops that still cling to the crack into your mouth. You let out an overly dramatic cry before crawling back over to the base of the tree, laughing to yourself about your misfortune.

“Here, have some of mine,” Misha says right before you find his bottle thrust in front of your face.

“I’m not gonna take your water, it’s totally fine. I’m used to not drinking much water when I jog, I’m really terrible at it.” You can’t help but feel a bit giddy at the idea of drinking after Misha.  _ It’s totally like kissing _ followed immediately by  _ What are you twelve?? _

“Well I didn’t say to drink it  _ all _ . We can share it. Come on, it’s getting warmer and we still have a ways to go before we get back, no sense risking a cramp.” You look over at Misha and stifle a giggle at the stern look you see on his face.

“Okay  _ Dad.”  _ you say in a mocking tone before you reach out to take the bottle. 

You’re surprised when he doesn’t immediately release the bottle. You look over to see him glaring at you with a dangerous glint in his eye.

“ _ Don’t  _ make me punish you, little girl.” he says, his voice almost hitting the low notes of his character. 

He holds on another second before he breaks into a smile, letting a small giggle escape. You roll your eyes and shake your head before you pop open the bottle. You lick your lips before going to take a drink and you swear you see Misha tracking the movement out of the corner of your eye but you shake it off, thinking it a trick of your tired brain. You bring the bottle to your lips and take a slow drink, giggling slightly into the mouth of the bottle.  _ It really will be like kissing when he drinks after me _ and  _ Jeez you really  _ are _ twelve, dork. _ You hand the bottle back and Misha takes another long drink. You can’t help but watch his mouth on the bottle and even if it does make you a dork, you get a small shiver thinking about it.

“Okay, so I know that you really pushed it back there so if you want I can call up the driver and have him come get us. It was a pretty decent distance and we wouldn’t want to tire you out before my panel.” Misha punctuates the last word with a wink. 

You squint back at him before your face slips into a grin.

“Well,  _ I’m _ okay but if  _ you _ want to get a ride back that’s okay with me. I understand men of a certain age tend to not have very much stamina.” You smirk and turn to look away from Misha, chalking that up as a win on your side. 

Unfortunately that means that you don’t see anything, only hear a rustling of fabric before you find yourself pinned on your back with Misha straddling your thighs, his hands wrapped around your wrists holding them against the grass.

“Now I warned you,” he purrs “and you didn’t listen. Now, you must be punished.” Your eyes lock with Misha, wide with surprise and completely unsure where he’s going with this. 

Then suddenly your hands are released and Misha’s fingers are everywhere, finding every single ticklish spot. He is completely without mercy, no matter how much you squirm and and beg him to stop in between gasps and giggles. You try stopping him with your freed hands but he is quicker and definitely stronger. 

You’re contemplating if it would be so bad to die pinned under Misha as you struggle to catch your breath when Misha’s fingers brush over your nipple when they move from tickling your neck to head down to your belly. 

The reaction of your traitorous body is immediate the second he first touches you. The hardening of your nipple does not go unnoticed by Misha and his hands still, one up on your neck and the other stopping just below your ribs. 

Looking up at Misha you can’t tell what he is thinking but you cringe, expecting a quick apology masking mild disgust and a really awkward ride home. All thoughts of this disappear however when your mind comes back into focus and you notice something hard pressing into your belly. 

You have just enough time to register this before Misha pushes himself off you before jumping up to his feet. He reaches down a hand to help you up as he shifts uncomfortably, a slightly guilty smile on his face. You accept his hand and let him pull you to your feet. A few moments of awkward silence pass before you break, unable to hold in the oh so lady like giggle snort that spills forth as the crazy events of the morning hit you. Soon both you and Misha are laughing hysterically, finding relief that the moment had passed.

Patting Misha’s shoulder you say “Okay old man, lets get going.” but something over Misha’s shoulder catches your eye. 

A grin spreads on your face. You would recognize a fellow fangirl from a mile away and you’ll be damned if there aren't  three of them standing just on the other side of the street and a few campsites down. 

“Oh Misha, I think perhaps your little Livestream wasn’t so subtle after all” you say with a softly ribbing voice as you gesture with a nod to the girls. “They aren’t going to come over on their own, I recognize that nervous posture...heck I perfected it.”

“I’m sorry, do you mind?” he asks with a weak smile. It’s really sweet, you can tell he really doesn’t want to disappoint the girls but at the same time he doesn’t want to let you down or make you wait.

You grin. “Go for it. It’ll just mean I’m gonna beat the pants off of you when it comes to getting to the car first.” 

You can’t help but blush a little when you realize what you just said in context of  what had happened moments before. Misha just smiles and shakes his head at you as he turns to start walking toward the girls. You smile as you see them start to practically buzz with excitement. You know that feeling and you send a silent thought to the aether to make sure Misha takes his time and doesn’t rush on your account. 

You turn and start a slow steady jog back in the direction you guys had come. Suddenly it feels so effortless. You process the amazing morning you've had. You marvel at the fact that you almost didn’t send out that tweet, that you almost didn’t stop long enough to tighten your laces.

You’ve been jogging for a full fifteen minutes before it occurs to you that you never left a message for your roommates like you had initially planned. You’re kind of surprised that they haven’t called or texted, although you think it  _ is _ still pretty early. 

You pull your phone out to check the time, relieved to see the tickle fest did not result in any damage to your phone. You really need to get a case for that. Your clock reads half past seven. You also see your lock screen has notifications on it, which is when you realize you hadn’t heard anything from your roommates because you never turned the sound for your phone on this morning. 

You unlock your phone and see several text messages from your roommates and a bunch of Twitter notifications. You shake your head with a smile thinking someone must have found the tweet Misha mentioned on the Livestream and already spread the word. This fandom works fast.

You know you should check your texts first but you're curious at how how much your follower count has jumped. You’ve never really cared, always thought it was weird that anyone would want to follow you in the first place but you were wondering if you finally broke 200. 

You slow your jog down a bit so you can read while you move but then you quickly come to a standstill. You find yourself searching for a place to sit, afraid your legs are about to give out and settle on a large boulder marking the driveway of an older looking trailer. 

You expected to see yourself tagged in screencaps from the livestream. You even wondered if Lua would make a gif of you telling Misha not to film your jiggle. What you didn’t expect was the pictures you were currently tagged in and being grilled about. 

What looks to be the first in the series was innocent enough, just you and Misha laying side by side on the ground. From the distance and angle you know exactly where the pictures came from. Of course, they must have recognized him right off. You would have. Those girls had been there the whole time. You wonder if they lived around there or if they just recognized the location and went looking. 

The next one was slightly less innocent but you aren’t sure if it’s just because you remember what you heard Misha mumble as you crawled away for your bottle but you don’t feel like the way he’s looking at you in the picture is very innocent. But if that was it then everything would have been fine. Unfortunately it didn’t stop there.

The next one was right after you made the mistake of questioning Misha’s “ability to last”. There was nothing innocent about this picture at all. In fact from the angle it was taken from it looks even worse than what was actually happening. 

It was taken from behind Misha and you couldn’t tell that all he was doing was getting ready to torture you with tickles. In fact his posture looks positively predatory. The next shot they managed to move to the side. Of course they didn’t catch Misha tickling you or the tears pouring down your face from laughing so much. No, this was the exact second that you both realized this had stopped being about tickling. 

One last picture. You don’t ever remember Misha putting his hand on your shoulder after helping you up. You  _ know _ you weren’t standing as close as the angle of this picture portrays. The worst part? The angle of your heads...if you hadn’t been there yourself you would swear that you and Misha were kissing.

Then there were the comments. People who don’t know you commenting on the pictures asking who this girl is that Misha is kissing. Not so nice comparisons to the girls Misha has been seen hanging out with in clubs outside of con appearances.  _ Why is Misha with her? He usually has higher standards. _

People who do know that it’s you, mostly because they saw you on the Livestream and tracked down your jogging tweet, wanting answers. You feel your head starting to spin. Your hands are shaking so badly that it’s difficult to send out the series of tweets but you know it needs to be done, and it needs to be done now. You got Misha into this with that stupid tweet, you had to get him out. You start by tagging some mutuals in the first tweet.

_ Hey guys, please do me a favor and spread this tweet thread around. Need to nip in the bud. _

_ Nothing happened here. I mouthed off to Misha and he tickled me in retaliation. You guys know how easy it is to take a split second>> _

_ On film and twist it. The pic of us standing is all just angles. We were literally more than a foot apart. Do you really>> _

_ Think that Misha would kiss Me of all people, when he could have his pick of beautiful, skinny smart girls in the fandom. _

_ I’m just a lame nobody with too much weight to lose still. Please, squash this. It’s just not true, I promise. _

You can feel the tears dripping down your cheeks as you put your phone to sleep and slip it into your pocket. It hurt to type those things but you know that people will believe them because they’re true. 

You’d been thinking it the whole morning but you’d managed to push the thoughts down since the whole situation was so out of this world. The fact was that Misha was just a nice guy that wanted someone to hang out with. You know you’d been reading into things just as much as the people looking at those pictures. It’s  _ Misha fucking Collins  _ for crying out loud. He is practically composed of rainbows and innuendo. It wouldn’t surprise you if his natural resting state was partially aroused.

You slowly become aware of the thud of jogging feet coming closer. You try desperately to try and compose yourself but you just can’t seem to stop the shaking or keep the tears from flowing so instead you just turn away from Misha as he comes closer, hoping to buy yourself some more time to compose yourself before he gets to you.

“What’s this?” you hear him call out, his voice full of mock surprise and suppressed laughter. “Did the little girl need a break?”

You give a rough laugh as you stand and start to jog away, hoping to keep your face just out of Misha’s line of sight. “Yah Misha, guess you have more stamina than me after all.”

“Well it’s no fun if you don’t fight back”. 

You would laugh at the fact that you could practically hear the pout in his voice if  _ any _ of this was funny. You just don’t have it in you to fake banter with Misha. Of course Misha notices immediately and picks up speed to catch up. 

“Hey, stop! What’s wrong?” You feel his strong hand clamp down on your shoulder and you are forced to stop. Misha doesn’t make you to turn toward him but instead moves around to you. He sees your tear streaked face and feels the tremor going through your body under his hand.You know you can’t postpone the inevitable anymore so you slowly lift your eyes to meet Misha’s. 

You manage to get out a soft, shaky “They took pictures.” before your legs give. Misha feels you start to go down and slows your fall and the two of you end up kneeling face to face in the middle of the street.

“What? What do you mean?” Misha holds your face gently in his hands, “Please tell me what’s wrong.” 

His voice is so soft with concern, the worry etched across his kind face. You hated to show him what was now all over the internet. The selfish part of you didn’t want him to see the ugly things people were saying about you. It was so embarrassing, but you had to do it.

“Look at your phone Misha, look at your Twitter timeline.” Misha sits back on his heels and pulls out his phone, his brow drawn together with confusion. You watch as he scrolls through, you see the confusion clear as the frustration and then the anger settles. He continues to scroll and then he stops for a minute and the anger turns to fury. You can’t even imagine which image or comment could possibly have made this normally sweet, gentle appearing man start to hulk out.

Then Misha turns the phone to face you and you become immensely confused at what you are looking at. One of your fast acting friends has already captured all of your tweets into one image and they had tagged Misha in order to get it into his timeline and get it to spread faster. You shake your head in confusion, he was mad at you? For telling everyone what really happened? Maybe he took exception to you talking about him getting other girls? You didn't mean to suggest that he did, just that he could.

His voice came out in a low harsh growl, a tone and a cadence he had perfected over several years of playing the same role. You wonder now if this was really something he had come up with for Castiel or if it had been a part of Misha all along.

“I  **Never** want to hear you talk about yourself like this again, do you understand me?” He gestures sharply with the phone, punctuating each slow, drawn out word. Knowing it would be unwise to argue you swallow and nod. “While we are at it, if we’re going to be accused, we might as well enjoy the subject of the accusation.” 

With that Misha lets his phone fall to the ground as he reaches out to hold your face in his hands, which are gentle but leave no room for argument as he pulls you toward him and he leans forward to meet you halfway. Your lips meet with the softest of touches at first, his thumbs wiping away the tears that remain on your cheeks. 

Then he increases the pressure and you can feel it all, the building tension of the morning, the frustration at the misleading pictures, the anger at the words you used to try and protect him with, and the need to burn away any thought that those words were true. 

Just when you begin to wonder how far this will go in the middle of the road, or if you should be concerned about the stars you’re seeing from lack of oxygen you feel Misha pull away. You open your eyes to see his clenched shut, his hands still on your face. He rests his forehead against yours, the words that come from his mouth strangled.

“No, I won’t do this now. I won’t have you thinking this is some sort of spite thing.” He opens his eyes and looks up at you, the storm clouds clearing from his face as he slowly begins to smile, his hands releasing their hold before falling down to hold your hand between them. He whispers, “The next time I kiss you it’s going to be passionate and needy and full of promises of more, but there won’t be any anger.” He slowly stands before pulling you to your feet beside him. “Make no mistake though, there will be a next time.”

You laugh weakly as Misha helps you back to the rock you had previously occupied, your legs weak for a completely different reason. 

“You realize the convention is over tomorrow night and you’ll be busy the rest of the weekend.” You settle down on the rock as Misha turns to retrieve his phone before coming back to you.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to be quick and creative.” he smirks as he dials the driver’s cell. You listen as he asks the driver to come pick the two of you up, explaining that “the little girl” overextended herself. 

You pull out your phone and chance a look long enough to text one of your roommates, letting them know that you will be back soon. You ignore the dozens of notifications you’ve gotten from Twitter in the short amount of time since you last had your phone out and put it back into your pocket. 

Misha hangs up his phone and slips it into his pocket. He stands next to you with his hand placed gently on your shoulder for comfort as the two of you wait in silence, too many big things in the air to attempt small talk. You’re filled with a strange mix of apprehension for what awaits you back at the convention and anticipation for what awaits you if you ever have a moment alone with Misha again.

  
When the car pulls up Misha helps you to your feet and to the car. Right before you slip into the car he leans over and whispers into your ear. “By the way, I think rubber duckies are super sexy.”


	2. Photo Ops and Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to face the music. Are you going to sneak under everyone's radar and enjoy the rest of the weekend or will you be found out. And how will it go if you see Misha again as he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, had to repost. Formatting issues XD
> 
> Note: The section marked with asterisks are intended for readers who are married or otherwise in a committed relationship. Skip to after the second asterisk if this is not applicable

You watch as Misha’s driver steers the car away, your hand drifting up to touch your cheek. You can still feel the imprint of Misha’s lips from the quick peck that he stole in the back seat. For just a moment you close your eyes and it’s the only thought in your mind, the only thing in the world that matters. But as the remnants of warmth on your cheek begin to fade in the morning chill of February the real world starts to creep back in. You take a steadying breath and steel yourself against the oncoming storm and turn to head into the hotel. For the first time this weekend you’re grateful that you got stuck all the way in Cascades as you should be able to sneak in that entrance and up to your room. Of course that won’t save you from the firing squad waiting for you in your room.

*

You’ve almost reached your room when your phone vibrates for the millionth time since you turned it back on. Sighing, you realize you should probably set your Twitter to private for the time being and you pull out your phone to do so. When you pull up Twitter you realize that your message icon is lit up. You thought you had cleared all those on the car ride over. You love your mutuals and they are all super kind but truthfully they are also super nosy. Opening your message box up, intending to just clear the notification you’re surprised to see the sender is Misha.

_ I am so sorry. I am so so sorry. I have to confess, I saw your wedding rings. I knew full well that you were taken and I still pressed my advances on you. I try to be so careful and respectful of other people’s relationships. It’s the only right way to make my life work the way it is. Please, forgive me for taking advantage of you. I promise I will do anything I can to help smooth this over with your partner. _

_ M _

You smile and shake your head at the phone. It never even occurred to you to have this conversation with him. Why would it? Up until the last few moments of your little excursion you were quite certain it wasn’t a conversation that would even be necessary. You lean against the wall and start typing, a tiny bit grateful for the delay in facing your roommates.

_ Silly Misha, do you think you are the only couple in the world with wiggle room in your relationship? If I was monogamous and you tried to kiss me I would’ve decked you. You are charming but not so much so that I’d cheat. <3 _

Really? Did you really just send Misha a stupid heart? Your brain must be fried. Seconds later you get a response. Just one word. Well, one word and proof he is as big a dork as you.

_ Good <3 _

Forgetting all about why you had taken the phone out in the first place you slip the phone back in your pocket and commence with the way too short journey to your room.

_ * _

Reaching your room much sooner than you’d like you reluctantly pull out your key card and reach your hand up to slide it into the slot. Before you even have a chance to touch the handle the door swings in and your roommate, Jenn, sticks her head out into the hall. She nervously glances up and down before grabbing your hand and dragging you into the room, the door slamming thunderously behind you. 

Squinting as your eyes adjust to the dim light you take in the scene before you. Jenn is still standing next to you. Fi and Amanda are sitting on the bed, unsure expressions on their faces. Suddenly, safe in a room with the girls that have become like sisters to you since your first convention, the dam holding everything at bay breaks loose and you find yourself wracked with sobs. Jenn wraps her arms around you as the other two jump up to do the same before they guide you to the bed before your legs give out. Fi runs to get you a bottle of water as words start tumbling out of your mouth.

“I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you so I went for a jog and tweeted...didn’t think anyone...but then Misha….so we went to jog….and he was nice and funny….then we took a break and I questioned his manhood so he tickled meandhowdidtheymakeitlooklikewewerekissingandI’mnevergonnabeabletocometoaconagain.” You know you’re rambling at this point and you manage to stop yourself before too much slips out. 

These girls would keep your confidence no matter what but you still don’t feel right, like telling them would betray Misha. 

“Okay, now that you have that out of your system let’s take a few breaths hon.” Jenn smooths your hair as you do as she says. 

Your body sags against the strength of your friends as the pure exhaustion hits you. It seems like an eternity since you left this bed. Jenn kneels in front of you and takes your hands in hers. 

“So we’ve been doing some low key snooping and there’s a big buzz about this girl on Twitter that’s here at the con,” you start to tense back up until she continues “BUT no one seems to be able to figure out who it is. It seems that your insistence on not leaving the room without your hair and makeup on is paying off.”

“What about my pictures though. I mean I know I’m an expert at the flattering angle but….”

“Darlin’ last year we only found each other because you tweeted the room number to us. Someone  _ might _ think they recognize you but when they ask just laugh and say ‘Don’t I wish!’” Amanda’s sympathetic smile threatened to undo you all over again. “Plus we will be with you the whole time and have no trouble telling people whatever’s necessary.”

“What happened to me being the con mom?” you say with a chuckle. “You guys are putting me out of work!”

“So, it’s a little after eight now,” Fi takes over the conversation smoothly, almost like they had practiced. 

You shake your head with a small smile on your face. What would you do without them. 

“You have time to get in the shower, ‘cause girl you  _ need _ it. That will give you plenty of time to get your ‘disguise’ on.” Fi actually makes air quotations at disguise. “While you’re showering, we’re going to run down to Starbucks and get you some caffeine. Everything seems to be fine but we’ll scope it out a little bit before heading back up. How’s that sound? And for the love of Chuck: Please stop that incessant buzzing.”

Blushing you pull your phone out of your pocket. You flinch noticeably when you see how many notifications you have gotten just in the short time since you’ve been in the room. “I’m sorry. I guess I really am going to have to lock down my Twitter for a while.” Pulling up your Twitter up you see your message box lit up and open it. When you see the sender you quickly angle the phone toward you, looking up to check your friend’s faces to see if there are signs that anyone had seen it. They don’t appear to have noticed anything amiss. 

“I’m just gonna go get the water running in the shower while I do this. Thanks for everything guys. You’re the best.”

You stand and start heading to the bathroom when you feel a hand grab your wrist. You turn and look at Amanda who currently has you locked in a vice grip. 

“You’re wrong you know. Those things you said about yourself. They aren’t true. If there were any truth to those pictures Misha would be  **lucky** to have you.” She releases your hand as you look at the serious faces of your friends as they nod in agreement. 

You feel tears welling up in your eyes for the third time today. You smile and shake your head at these amazing women gathered in front of you before turning and heading into the bathroom.

Closing the door you turn the water on before sitting down and opening the most recent message, thankful your friends hadn’t seen Misha’s profile picture in your box.

_ Just wanted to let you know I just got off the phone with Adam. Very frustrated. His snoops can’t dig up anything. You remain an enigma. Think you are in the clear but in case you are recognized just know it will be okay. I will make certain of it. _

_ M _

You send off a quick message letting Misha know that you are locking your account down and turning off notifications for now. You hesitate briefly before including your cell number with assurances that you don't expect him to use it but just in case…

You spend the next hour and a half rinsing away the sweat and tension of the morning and getting dressed and ready. 

At some point your friends come back and you are grateful to have a coffee and an apple thrust into your hands. You’re starting to feel slightly more human and even a little optimistic. Looking in the mirror you think maybe you can pull this off. You really wish you hadn't decided to go dressy this con. The dress you have on is nice. You just suddenly feel very self conscious about the amount of cleavage it shows. Granted the fact that it made that area look particularly nice was part of why you got it in the first place. You consider briefly the fandom shirts you brought for nightwear, but the only bottoms you packed were your pajama bottoms and you’ve already spent enough time embarrassing yourself in pajamas.

You're seriously reconsidering the PJ option when Amanda slams her hands down on your shoulders. 

“I love you dearly but if you make me late for Church of the Holy Dick I will murder you. C’mon, opening ceremony starts in ten minutes. Time to shit or get off the pot.”

You all gather up your bags packed with snacks, water, op tickets and items for your autographs. All things that were so exciting but now just feel like more time spent under scrutiny. But you know it's now or never so you take a deep breath and follow your friends out the door.

There is a definite buzz going around that feels different than yesterday. There is the normal excitement that is always there. But people are darting glances at everyone that passes. They are talking in hushed whispers, a few of them pointing at others who share your build or your hair color. Giving your acting skills a workout you do your best to stay calm and fit in, pretending to look around searching for well, yourself. You manage to slip into your seat in the second row just as the house lights start going down and you breathe a sigh of relief.

The next two hours seem to fly by. The panels are great. Kim manages to make you laugh and cry all in the span of ten minutes, as usual. But as the clock moves closer and closer to one o’clock you start to feel the rustlings of panic set in. Pulling out your phone you open up your text messages and scroll down to Fi.

_ Hey you’ve been so great I want to thank you. I want you to take my Misha op. I think that flower thing you were talking about would be super cute and I really don’t have anything interesting to do anyway. _

Exactly five seconds go by before you get her reply.

_ Not a chance, coward. _

Well shit. 

_ Will you at least be in it with me? Nothing special, just in and out. _

_ That’s what she said. Hahahaha. Sure, I can do that. _

_ Asshole <3 _

Smiling, you put your phone back in your bag. You’re not entirely sure why you’re so nervous. Its three seconds of your life, surrounded by people. What’s there to be nervous about? And still, you feel your body physically flinch when the notice flashes on the screen for the first set of numbers for Misha’s solo op to head to the photo op room. You contemplate just staying in your seat and letting your slot go by ‘accidentally’ but when you feel the insistent hand appear on your shoulder you don’t even have to look up to know that Fi is standing behind you.

With great reluctance you pick up your bag and follow Fi up out of the convention hall and up the stairs to the mezzanine level. There’s already a line formed at the door, wrapping around into the small hall beside the op room. You can hear the music blasting and say a silent thank you to Chuck when you remember how impossible it is to have conversations with the guests over the music. Not that Misha would say or do anything to ‘out’ you in front of all those people...you think.  

For the first time in your con going life you wish that the damn line didn’t move so fast. You’re almost to the door before you’re even remotely ready to be. 

Normally this is when you would be doing your last minute makeup and hair checks and squeeing over whomever you are about to give a squish to. It almost seems silly to be worrying about how you look after Misha has seen you at your most unattractive.

You smile and nod at Fi and tell her she looks great as always when she asks you to check her make up. She looks at you sympathetically when she notes the look in your eyes and reaches down to squeeze your hand. She continues to hold it as the volunteer at the door waves the people in front of you into the room. Then you are there, standing in the open doorway.

You can almost forget your troubles as you watch Misha interacting with his fans. His smile is so open and genuine. The way he manages to put his nervous fans at ease is probably one of the biggest draws for fans. The other of course being the way he can just as easily pinpoint the ones that he could fuck with mercilessly. You genuinely aren’t sure where you fall in those categories. 

The line is moving quickly and you are pretty certain you have crushed a few of the bones in Fi’s hand. As you get closer you realize how fascinating the pattern on the carpet is and you decide it’s the best thing in the world to be looking at right now. Thankfully you aren’t the first fangirl to get hit with a case of anxiety while waiting in the line so you blend right in.

“Oh my goodness, that is the cutest Cas plushy I’ve ever seen,” Fi says suddenly. Looking up you see a young girl holding up a large handmade stuffed doll to Misha as she explains something about it to him. He gets really excited and you can hear the word “amazing” come across the crowd. You watch as they pose with the doll and Chris snaps a picture. Misha hugs both the doll and the girl before they are on their way. As he is turning back towards the next person his eyes pass over the line. It is at this exact moment that you remember you are supposed to be examining the carpet. 

Too late you realize your mistake as those smiling blue eyes take you in for a second before recognition flares in them. How, you have no idea since so far you have been able to fool hundreds of other people. His smile grows big and there’s a change in his expression you can’t quite read as he takes you in from head to toe before remembering himself and looking away. The whole exchange felt like an eternity but really was no more than a second or two. You look around but no one else seems to have noticed anything amiss.

All too quickly you find yourself next in line. You hand your ticket to the volunteer who tears it in half then hands it back to you. You watch as Misha poses with a girl dressed as human Baby. The volunteer waves you forward as the Impala leaves and Fi goes bounding in with you trailing behind looking like a terrified fangirl meeting her idol for the first time to anyone who cared to look.

Misha puts one arm around Fi’s shoulder and whispers something in her ear as he reaches blindly out for you to take the same position on the opposite side. You slide in under his arm, mirroring Fi’s position with one arm around his back and the other hand placed lightly on his chest. You feel his hand slide across your shoulders, going under your hair to rub against the exposed skin on the back of your neck as he goes. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, his thumb making the smallest of movements, barely visible but you can feel every bit of it as he rubs it against the edge of your naked collarbone.

Misha leans over to whisper into your ear, just like he had with Fi seconds before, “You know, you are making it awfully difficult for me to play it cool coming in here looking like that. It’s bad enough thinking of our unfinished business all day. Now all I can think about is kissing you from that lovely mouth all the way down to the top of that dress of yours. It really is hard.”

You don’t even think about it, it just kind of pops out of your mouth. 

“That’s what she said.” You’ll have to thank Fi later for putting that into your head. 

There was that magical laugh again, the one that managed to both settle your nerves while making your stomach twist into knots. When Misha settled you were all able to smile pretty for Chris before heading off.

“What did he say to you that made you say that?” Fi asked as you were heading out the exit.

“Oh, he just said he hoped my morning wasn’t too hard...it was kinda lame.” Okay so you’re starting to feel a little bad but what else are you going to tell her? “What did he say to you?”

“He just said he hoped I was having a good time. I think it was just so he could talk to you without looking like he was singling you out. He’s smooth but I’m smart.” she said with a self satisfied look on her face. 

For the first time in hours it feels good just to laugh with your friend.

Of course that is exactly when your phone starts vibrating in your bag. The fear that someone put two and two together starts to creep in but then you remembered that you had stopped Twitter from sending notifications to your phone so it couldn’t be that. You pull your phone out and check to see that you have a new text message from an unfamiliar number. Assuming its just some stupid marketing text you open it up, prepared to delete when your hand stills.

_ If you can, sneak away from your friend for a few minutes. Go down the hall past the bathrooms and take a right. There is a room that is open just on your right. I'll be there as quick as I can. _

You take a deep breath to steady yourself when you realize who the cryptic message has to be from. You know you should just tell him you can't get away but you can still feel his touch on your skin. You've already made your choice, now it's just a matter of accepting it.

“Hey Fi I'm kinda beat. I think I overdid it a bit this morning. I know we were supposed to meet the girls for lunch but would you mind going without me? I think I'm just gonna run to the bathroom and then head back down to the hall.” 

It wasn't a complete lie. Your legs really were sore and the idea of taking the ten minute walk across the hotel to where Jenn and Amanda would be waiting did sound a bit like torture.

“Sure hon. Do you want me to come with you to the bathroom?” She looked around at the people milling around in the hallway with concern.

“No!” you say a little too quickly. “I think I just need to put on my big girl panties and realize that I'm gonna be okay. Besides you won't have enough time to eat and get back for the next panel.”

Fi nods and says “Well how about I bring you back some pizza?”

“Sure that’d be great. Maybe something caffeinated too? I'm fading fast.”

“Absolutely, gotta do something so that I don't have to physically drag you to the concert. Text if you need us.” Fi gave you a tight hug before turning away and heading to meet the others. 

Taking a breath, you steel your nerves then you turn and head back past the photo op room. Glancing in you get a brief look at Misha mid hug before heading toward the hall that leads to the bathroom. 

Keeping your eyes averted you walk down the length of the line of people waiting for their Misha op and head to the bathrooms. You glance back briefly to make sure no one is watching before you head past the doors and turn down the hallway. You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and head toward the door on your right. It’s closed and you feel a little nervous as you reach for the handle, half expecting someone to appear and yell at you.

When nothing of the kind happens you turn the handle and step inside. It’s just a smaller version of the photo op room but It currently had a few banquet tables set up along the wall and a bunch of chairs sitting in a circle in the center of the room. This must be one of the rooms they use for the meet and greets. You say a silent prayer that there aren’t any very soon. You spot a copy of the schedule laying on one of the tables and walk over to pick it up to make sure. You’re reaching for it when you hear the door open. 

Spinning around you feel your heart in your throat when you see Misha standing there. Without breaking eye contact he slowly closes the door shut behind him and turns the lock. Any delusions you may have had about Misha just wanting to talk are swept away by the look in his eyes. Leaning back slightly against the table you grip the edge for support.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to be here.” His voice is low and rough. 

“Me either...I mean I wasn’t sure if  _ you _ were going to be here. Aren’t you supposed to be getting groped in front of a camera right now?” Okay, so you may be nervous as hell but it’s just too much fun to let an opportunity to pick on Misha go by.

“I’ve got about five minutes before they start wondering why I’m taking so long in the bathroom. First I had to send my handler off on an errand so she wouldn’t be there to follow me.” It’s curious to you that he hasn’t stepped away from the door. “Now if groping is what you have in mind I would be happy to oblige. But..” Misha pauses, an expression almost akin to pain crossing his face. 

Clearing his throat he continues, “I’m going to wait over here until you tell me you want me as much as I want you. Because if I go over there I might forget my manners like I did this morning and we wouldn’t want that.”

You know the smart thing to do is to tell him to turn around and go back to his photo ops. It would make life a lot less stressful, a lot simpler, to just pretend this morning never happened. But you can’t get the feeling of Misha’s lips on yours out of your mind, the rough stubble on his face scratching against your skin. You can’t stop thinking about what it would be like if the fiery trail left by his fingertips across the back of your neck and down to your collarbone were to continue across your body.

There is really only one option. You cheeks flare with color and you have to look down at the floor but you manage a strangled, “Yes.” 

Misha clears the almost ten foot distance in three quick strides and you suddenly find yourself pinned between his body and the table, your face between his hands.

Tipping your face up so that your eyes meet his he says, “Don’t ever be embarrassed to say what you want. Own it with every fiber of your being.” He rests his forehead against yours, much like he’d done that morning in the street. You can still see the struggle for restraint in his eyes. “That being said, are you  _ sure _ ? This can get complicated and I don’t want you to do anything just because..” he pauses, clearly uncomfortable. “Just because I’m me.”

You feel a vice-like grip squeeze your heart. How many times has he had to deal with people getting close to him just because he’s famous? He must constantly be wondering if people are being honest with him or just telling him what they think he wants to hear.

Shaking out of his grasp on your face you press your cheek against his, your lips a hairsbreadth away from his ear as you whisper, “I only drop my panties when  _ I  _ want to, no matter  _ who  _ a person is.” 

Feeling bold in a position of power you take the opportunity to gently bite Misha’s earlobe before pulling away, a wicked gleam of challenge in your eyes.

You hear a low growl before you suddenly find a firm grip on your rear right before being lifted onto the table behind you. The rough texture of Misha’s jeans rubs against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he gently pushes your legs apart with his hips, your skirt riding up above your knees. One of Misha’s hands grip the back of your neck while the other rests where thigh turns to hip. 

There’s no softness when your lips meet this time. Misha’s lips crash against yours, demanding and needy all at the same time. You feel the soft burn of his stubble against your skin. A low growl erupts from Misha’s chest when you nip at his lower lip, his hands tightening their grips on your body. His tongue presses against your mouth, demanding entrance. You part your lips, feeling a warm heat pooling in your belly as he traces your lips before sliding in to taste the rest of your mouth. He tastes of honey, something herbal that’s most likely tea and cinnamon, making you hungry for more. 

You pout in protest when Misha pulls away which gets you a dazed smirk in return. Then he leans back in and begins leaving feather light kisses starting from the corner of your mouth, down the line of your jaw before moving on to the sensitive skin of your neck. His kisses turn to tastes and nips as he moves down to where your neck meets your shoulder.

“What are you wearing tomorrow?” he whispers against your skin before returning to causing the most delicious sensations along your collarbone with his mouth and tongue.

Incredibly confused and more than a little dazed you answer “Umm, another halter dress like this one.”

“So it covers all the same places as this one?” You can feel his lips curling into a smile even as he continues to tease your skin, the cool air hitting the damp areas and causing goosebumps.

“Yes?” you say hesitantly, more of a question than an answer.

“Good.” he says “then this will be safe here and just for us...so you know you are mine at least for the weekend.” 

He slides away the strap to your dress, revealing the place where neck meets shoulder and then you feel the shock of absolutely exquisite pain as he bites down into the tender skin before gently soothing the area with his mouth and tongue.

At this your body seems to decide it's time to take over for your mind and you wrap your legs around Misha’s waist pulling him tightly against you while your fingers dig into the fabric on his back, holding on for dear life. If the pained moan he let out wasn't enough to let you know how he was feeling, the rock hard erection that was now pressed firmly between your legs sure was.

“No sweetheart. You can't do that to me. We only have a few minutes.” He rests his head on your shoulder briefly, one hand gently rubbing your arm while the other draws circles on the exposed skin just above your knee. You whimper in frustration as you drop your head down onto his shoulder. 

You can't see his face but you can hear the mischief in his voice when he whispers “but if I try  _ really  _ hard that might just be enough time to take care of  _ you _ .” 

You feel the circles on your knee start to move higher, sliding up under the gathered material of your dress. As his fingers slowly make their assent his other hand slides up to the nape of your neck and begins toying with the knot holding your dress up. 

“Of course there  _ is _ a best and worst case scenario.” The softness of his fingers as they draw lazy patterns along the top of your thigh mixes with the roughness of the denim rubbing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs begins to turn the warmth in your belly to a persistent tightness. “Worst case: I leave you frustrated and wanting all day.” 

You can feel him smile against the skin just behind your ear as he slowly starts untying the knotted fabric. You feel his knuckles brush against the fabric of your panties and he starts slowly tracing the edge up to your hip before returning to slip down, following it between your legs where denim meets cotton. 

His mouth moves directly over your ear, his warm breath making you shiver, before whispering, “Best case: I make you come.”

You try so hard to suppress it but the giggle escapes your lips. You feel Misha’s hands still and he pulls back to you look at you with that adorable squint that crinkles his nose and shows the laugh lines around his eyes. 

“Are you,” he pauses, searching for the words, “laughing at my sexy talk?”

You stammer, your body shaking with barely repressed laughter, “I...I can’t help it….Influence!”

You dissolve into giggles as your mind is flooded by images of the panel that Misha did with Jared in Rome where the language barrier had them in stitches after Misha twisted their words to imply that they were calling come influence.

Misha purses his lips and the look in his eyes causes the giggling to subside before he says “Frustrated it is then.” 

His hands spring into action and you are suddenly hit by two very different sensations. First is the cool air that hits your skin as Misha releases the knot holding your dress in place, allowing the top to slip down to your waist and exposing your bra. You make a mental note of thanks that you opted for the pretty bra with the halter straps instead of the more practical but very industrial strapless one. 

The second sensation you feel is the nerve endings in your lower half lighting on fire as Misha slips his fingers under the edge of your panties and brushes them lightly down your slit. 

Misha dips his head down and runs his tongue along the edge of the lacy fabric of your bra and into the valley of your breasts. He pushes your panties aside with his exploring fingers before tracing lazy patterns along your folds, his thumb barely brushing just around your clit. He grins up at you as you moan impatiently, shifting your hips trying to get more friction. 

He abandons his slow torture of the exposed skin above your bra and moves down to your nipple. He slowly circles around it over the lace with his tongue while his thumb does the same with your clit. Your mind disintegrates into white noise and your body comes alive with currents as Misha simultaneously slips a finger inside you while gently biting down on your nipple. 

He moans against you “So wet...need more time” the vibrations from his voice rippling across your skin. 

Your left hand curls around the nape of Misha’s neck, your nails digging lightly into his skin while your right reaches behind you to the far edge of the table, leaning your body back while keeping Misha’s torturous mouth to your breast. 

Misha plants his free hand on the table to steady himself as his other begins to move, his finger slowly starting to work in and out between your folds while his thumb teased the bundle of nerves shooting sparks to your core.

You let out a strangled cry, a little louder than you should which causes Misha to abandon your nipple and move up to silence you with his mouth. His lips crush against yours as he slips a second finger inside you and he picks up his pace. He curls his fingers to hit all the right spots as he begins following his hand with his denim covered erection. 

The image of Misha’s fingers being replaced by his pistoning cock has you rising high faster than you ever have before. You instinctively try and squirm away as the sensation starts to become too much but Misha’s support hand moves from the table to your hip.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks against your swollen lips as his slides you back against his probing hand.  “You wouldn’t be trying to run away from me, are you little girl?”

Even in your current state you can’t let that jab go unanswered. Gasping, you reply “Just...don’t...want to give you...a heart attack...old man.” You open your eyes a crack and see the answer to your challenge flare in his eyes. Before he has a chance to manifest it, you hear a faint buzzing sound.

Swearing, Misha releases your hip to reach into his pocket. Pulling out his phone he puts a finger to his lips to silence you before answering it, not letting up as he slips a third finger inside you. You bite down on your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, in an attempt to stifle the cry that’s begging to be released. Your eyes shoot daggers at Misha.

“Hey, what’s up?” Misha grimaces at whatever the person on the other end of the phone is saying. He slowly slides his fingers out of your slick warmth as he continues to listen. “Oh there were too many people at the bathroom so I ran to the one down by the green room.” Misha grins at you before slipping one of his fingers between his lips. You can see his tongue swirling around, cleaning all of your wetness off before moving to the next. Pausing after the second he says. “No, you don’t need to come meet me. I’ll be back in just a minute.” As he listens to whomever is speaking he slips the third finger into his mouth to give it a thorough cleaning as well. “I’ve been gone  _ how _ long? Oh I’m so sorry. When you have to poop you have to poop though, I guess.” Misha shrugs at you as you shake your head incredulously. One minute he’s the skilled Casanova and the next he’s a bumbling preteen. 

Misha ends the call before leaning in to kiss you. As he slides his tongue between your lips forcefully, a last reminder that you are his for the weekend, you can taste yourself on him. Your eyes slip closed and stay closed for a moment after he pulls away, your mind spinning with the thought of him tasting your juices directly from the source. 

This is why you don’t have time to protest before you hear the click of his phone as he takes a picture of you. You can only imaging how it looks with your head thrown back, the top of your dress pooled down around your waist exposing your lace covered breasts,your legs spread and your skirt hiked up; your arousal clear by the wet spot on your panties.

“C’mon Misha, delete that. I’m sure I look terrible.  _ Please _ ?” you ask him, your face flushed with embarrassment as you tug your skirt down before tying your dress back up. 

Misha moves back in and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck as he presses a gentle, almost chaste, kiss against your lips. 

“Never.  _ This _ ,” he says, holding up his phone to show you the picture, “is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you.” 

He leans his forehead down to rest against yours. You’re coming to find this is his default position when he’s fighting to use restraint. You know he doesn’t want to go but you aren’t surprised when he speaks, “I have to head back, my five minute break has evidently turned into fifteen minutes and they’re threatening to come find me.”

Looking up at Misha with clear eyes for the first time in a while, you start to giggle. 

“You should probably stop at the bathroom on the way,” you tell him, a mischievous glint in your eye.

He looks down at his obvious erection and says, “What, this? It’s pretty much assumed that I’m always thinking about sex so I doubt anyone will notice.”

Your body almost shaking with held back laughter, you say, “Misha, I’m wearing lipstick.” He looks at you confused for a moment before you continue. “Now  _ you’re _ wearing lipstick too. _ ”  _

Understanding dawns in his eyes followed by a look of frustration.

“If I go into the bathroom now they’re going to think I had some bad seafood or something.” 

“Hold on,” you say as you reach for your bag that you left forgotten on the table next to you. You fish around before pulling out a package of makeup wipes. Misha puts a hand on either side of you to brace himself as he leans in to present his face. You gently start cleaning off the red lipstick you had chosen because it matched the pin up style of the dress you were wearing. You‘re surprised at how oddly intimate this feels, considering the man before you was just knuckle deep inside of you. But this is different, tending to his needs. You shake that thought away and begin repeating in your head,  _  just for the weekend, I’m his just for the weekend. _

“There you go, all better.” you say as you crumple up the wipe in your hand, all evidence of your encounter gone. Well, except for the raging hardon that was pressing into your knee. 

“I’ll text you soon, as soon as I’m done with ops. I’ll have a minute or so before my panel,” Misha paused before continuing on, “Where are you sitting? I didn’t see you during the costume contest.”

“No,” you say, looking guiltily at the floor. “I was avoiding seeing you.” 

You see Misha’s hand coming up before he gently moves your chin so you’re looking him in the eye.

“Well no more of that. I want you every second I can have you, even if it's just to stare at you from the stage. But you didn’t answer me, will I be able to see you from the stage?”

Blushing you reply, “Yes, I’m second row, center aisle.” Squinting at Misha you continue as he reluctantly backs away. “Do  _ not _ use that information to torment me though or I won't be the only one left desperately frustrated.”

Misha graces you with a full body laugh as he backs up to the door, “Scouts honor, I won’t  torment you,” he pauses as you slide off the table and pick up your bag so you can start repairing your own wrecked make up job. “Much.” he finishes his thought with a grin. 

Glaring at him you pull out a mirror and another wipe to start cleaning up smeared lipstick.

Misha has almost to the door before he stops, his eyes narrowing at you. 

“Actually I'm going to need something from you before I go.” He’s so serious that you start to go a little cold. Is he one of those actors that make people around them sign NDAs? 

He had to know it was in your own best interest to stay quiet. You’re a bit startled when he walks back toward you. Your arms drop down to your sides as he comes to a stop directly in front of you. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he drops down to his knees in front of you. You stomach does a small flip flop as he places his hands on your legs just below the hem of your dress.

“Misha there isn't time. They'll come looking.” Ignoring you entirely he begins to slide his hands up under your dress up along your hips until he reaches the soft material that covers your very wet center. With a wicked gleam he grasps the material and begins to slide your panties down. He continues until he reaches your feet and then he looks up at you expectantly.

“Misha,” you begin again. When you don't immediately follow his silent instructions you find yourself graced with what some in the fandom have dubbed his Dom eyebrow. 

This sends an intense shiver straight to your core and you find yourself lifting your feet so he can remove your underwear without being able to say that it was a conscious act. “Seriously, what are you doing?” you ask as you watch him slip them into his pocket.

“Just a little something for me to hold onto while I'm up on stage thinking about how wet you made them.” he says with a grin. “You  _ did  _ promise something about dropping your panties for me, after all.”

“C’mon Misha, I don't have time to go back to the room for another pair. My friends are going to be back soon.” You tried to keep the whine out of your voice. 

Truly you don't know if your legs could even carry you that far, as weak as they felt right now.

“Who said I was giving you permission to put another pair on?” There was that damn eyebrow again. 

“You can't mean,” you pause giving a half laugh. “You can't mean you expect me to..”

Misha interrupts you, “I expect you to sit out there thinking about what only you know I have in my pocket. Meanwhile I’ll be up on stage thinking about the fact that I'm the only one that knows that you are out there exposed and ready for me. I won't, but I want us both to think about the fact that I could jump off stage at any second and lift your skirt and slip my tongue between your legs with not even a whisper of a barrier to stop me.”

Misha stands and turns, walking to the door. He pauses as his hand touches the lock before turning to say, “You're lucky I don't have access to any toys because the idea of you sitting out there watching me with a vibrator in your pussy is incredibly appealing.” 

He turns the lock and opens the door, giving one last wink before disappearing from sight. You stand there for a moment feeling stunned and more frustrated than you've ever been in your life.

Shaking your head you go back to rummaging through your bag, you pull out the items you need to repair your makeup. As you finish up you check the time on your phone, contemplating if you have enough time to get to and from your room. Not to defy Misha, you wouldn't do that. 

But you've got a little something tucked away in your suitcase that you brought for Sunday night when all your roommates will have left. Maybe this time you can throw Misha completely off kilter instead of the other way around. Making up your mind you gather your things and leave, closing the door gently before heading back towards your room. You’re feeling incredibly frustrated, as Misha intended so now you were going to make sure he was just as frustrated. Two could play that game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I will have a new chapter up soon. Got distracted this weekend but almost done then I'll get back at it!


	3. Pleasurable Panel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've got a plan for a fun game during Misha's panel. Hopefully it doesn't backfire on you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: We are going with the oft accepted thought that Misha's marriage is an open one.
> 
> Sorry this one took so long and its a little shorter and lighter on the smut, I promise the next chapter is better!
> 
> Pictures added thanks to the wonderful @daydreamdestiel

As the heavy door of your hotel room slams shut behind you, you suddenly find yourself full of doubt. Pacing, you start listing off all the reasons you shouldn’t do this.

_You might get caught._ He _might get caught. He might think you’re crazy for taking him serious._

Oddly enough this is the thought that managed to shake you out of your head. _Misha_ think someone else is crazy? This is the man who gets thousands of people to do strange and compromising things just for the sake of doing it every year. You might manage to surprise him but never make him think you were crazy.

You open up your suitcase and dig under your clothes searching blindly for the little silk pouch you know is in there. When your fingers touch the smooth fabric you wrap them around the object you are after and pull it out. Your fingers shake as you pull the little silver bullet and the controller that is attached to it by a long cord out and you display it on top of the pouch. Giving yourself an internal pep talk you take out your phone and take a picture of it. Then you reach into one of the hidden pockets in the skirt of your dress and pull it inside out. You find a loose thread in the stitching of the seam and pull at it until you have a hole big enough to slip the bullet end of your toy through but not so big that the remote part will fall out.

You’re startled when you hear the click of the lock on the room door disengaging. You quickly swipe up the incriminating evidence and tuck it into your pocket as Jenn walks in the door. She jumps a mile when she looks up and sees you.

“Jeez! Fi said you were waiting in the hall! I wasn’t expecting anyone in here,” she finishes with a laugh.

“Oh I was just getting a headache so I came back to grab some tylenol.” Another lie slips a little easier off the tongue.

Jenn gives you a look of concern that sinks a baseball sized seed of guilt into your gut, “Fi said you were doing better. We wouldn’t have left you alone this long if we knew you were still having a hard time.” She walks over to you, pulling you into an embrace. She pulls back slightly to take you in, “Are you okay sweetie? You’re kind of sweaty. What, one jog wasn’t enough so you decided to double down?” she quipped.

“Oh no, I just jogged back because I didn’t want to be late getting back to the hall. I didn’t want to worry you guys and I was hoping I would beat you back there.” Well, you _had_ run back pretty quickly. Not fast enough to build up a sweat but she didn’t need to know what had actually caused it.

Jenn grabs the poster that she had brought to get autographed and had forgotten in the room and the two of you head back to the hall. You do your best to focus on Mark’s panel, not needing to be caught unaware by him. With your luck he would catch you zoning out and ask you what you were thinking of and you would blurt out that you were thinking of when the best time to put the vibrator in would be.

The girls drag you away after to get more caffeine, although thankfully the Starbucks is just a few minutes walk from the hall as your legs have begun to protest in earnest. Grabbing your coffees you all head back to the Magnolia lobby and sit on the comfy chairs. Soon you are laughing and chatting with your friends and feeling at ease, your future plans a very distant nagging at the back of your head.

You head back to the hall and arrive just in time to catch the end of the music videos. You settle in for the R2M panel which is as amazing as always. Unfortunately you let yourself get totally caught up in the panel and forget to watch the time. Suddenly you remember yourself and pull out your phone and realize the panel is almost over. You had intended to have already left to begin your scheme to rattle Misha by now. You stand up and hurry out of the hall to the bathroom.

Thankfully the bathroom is currently empty. First you get a text message with the picture attached ready to send as you sit in the stall then you take out the bullet end of your toy. You turn it over in your hands a few times, contemplating whether or not you are really going to do this.

Before you have a chance to change your mind you slide your hand with the bullet back into the pocket, seeking out the hole you created earlier. As you slip with bullet through the hole you reach under your skirt to grab it from the other side. Closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip you place it up against your slit which is surprisingly already getting wet and you pause for just a second before sliding it in. Evidently you’re on your way to discovering a new kink.

Just as you stand up you can hear all the way in the bathroom the sound of applause. Swearing to yourself you slam through the door and hurry to the sink to wash your hands. Walking as quickly as you dare with your little secret nestled between your legs you reach the door and pause. You can hear Misha’s voice through the double doors. You had really wanted to be in your seat before he came on so you didn’t draw any attention from anyone. Nothing to be done about it now you hold up your badge to show the volunteer who pushes open the door. You take a deep breath before you start making your way to the middle aisle of the room.

Stopping when you reach the center you look up on stage for a moment. Misha is waving and smiling to the crowd while Richard is talking although you don’t hear a word over the blood rushing in your ears as the reality of what you are planning sets in. It's hard to tell from this distance exactly where he is looking but you catch a flicker of a frown on Misha’s face on the monitors and from his position you are pretty sure he has just noticed your empty seat. It’s gone in a flash and he becomes distracted by something Rob says as the band finishes up playing Angel. Using this as your opportunity to sneak in you rush to your seat.

Unfortunately you aren’t quick enough and about three feet from your seat you hear booming over the sound system “You’re late young lady.” Looking up you see Misha giving you a dark look. You freeze and your eyes go wide. Misha’s face clears up and he breaks into a smile. “That’s fine, that’s fine.” he says with a laugh before pausing as he walks away and you slip into your seat. Looking down at the stage as he walks he says in a low voice, “I’ll punish you later.” The audience erupts into a raucous combination of lewd cheers and laughter. Clearly, and thankfully, you are the only person in the room that knows that he may not be joking. So much for his promise to not torment you from the stage. That’s okay. You suddenly feel very good about what you’re going to do to him.

You wait until he finishes telling the audience about a particularly humorous op that he did earlier holding a lifesize Dean pillow and the “obscene” things he was asked to do to it. Taking out your phone you pull out the unsent text with the picture and hold the screen close to your body. Then you wait for Misha to look in your direction. You don’t wait long. The first question he takes is about a scene between Cas and Dean in the Impala during the season 11 finale and whether or not it would be enough for Cas to start feeling better about himself. Misha looks down at the ground as he gathers his thoughts. Looking up as he begins speaking his eyes go straight to you. When he sees you holding your phone up and the challenge in your smile he stutters a bit before recovering and you know he at least understands you are trying to signal him. With that you push send, throwing away your last chance to change your mind.

_Well look what I just happened to bring with me. It’s all shiny and clean now but by the time you see this it will be buried inside me. I won’t turn it on until you want me to. Let’s say, rub your thigh to turn it on or up. Rub the back of your head to turn it off and end the game. Have a great panel. Don’t get distracted. ;)_

_ _

Misha reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls his phone out. “Someone’s texting me during a panel. How rude!” he laughs before opening the text. You see his eyes go wide for a split second before they narrow down. “Oh look, Jared’s sending dick pics again.” The crowd erupts into laughter and cheers again as Misha tucks his phone away. Now, you wait, your hand in your pocket gripping the controller.

Part of you hopes that he will decide it's too much of a distraction and it wouldn't be professional. Next question up someone is asking about the hugging scene in the finale. Misha turns his back to the audience and grabs his bottle of water from the podium. He turns back and walks to his seat. He takes a long drink before replacing the cap and setting it down on the floor before sitting down.

“Are you asking how many times we had to do a retake because Jensen kept grabbing my ass?” Misha laughs at his own clever twist of the poor girl's question. Hoots and howls fill the room. Misha’s laughter starts to die down as he scans the audience. To most it looks like he's just reading the crowds reaction but you know differently and your heartbeat quickens. His eyes land on you with a wink as his hand lowers from the mic to his thigh. You take a deep breath saying a silent prayer that this is as quiet as you remember it. As his hand touches his thigh and begins to rub you close your eyes and turn the dial.

It’s just a whisper of sensation at first, being on the lowest setting. It’s completely overtaken though as your brain kicks into panic mode. What are you doing? How did you get here? Just this morning you were uncomfortable _jogging_ in front of an audience. Shortly after that you were terrified you would get caught just being the girl everyone thought was kissing Misha. How did you get from something as innocent as that to _this?_ Even more incredible was that this was all you. _You_ chose to do this.

Somewhere in your foggy brain you pick up on Misha speaking. You hear something no one else would have really noticed. Just a small hitch in his voice. Nothing to draw attention to, but you hear it and you know it was because of you. You slowly open your eyes and for a brief moment your eyes lock with Misha’s and the desire you can see in them completely burns away all doubt.

It’s only a second or two before Misha blinks and makes his Blue Steel like squint that he does when it looks like he is trying to see the audience past blinding lights and moves on. You breath a sigh of relief when you realize that there is no audible sound coming from your toy. The people around you remain unaware to the battle of wills that has commenced between yourself and the man on the stage..

Another question comes: A prank question. There’s a mix of groans and laughter from the audience. Misha talks briefly about the Words With Friends bet and the fallout. You barely even register his words. It’s barely noticeable but you are starting to feel a small building in your core. It’s not enough to cause you any issues at the moment but it brings to the forefront of your mind that it _will_ if this goes far enough.

The next person in line asks something about GishWhes but you are so focused on what Misha is doing that sounds are becoming muffled. He stands to casually walk over to the side of the stage that the person asking the question is as they are talking. His full attention is on the asker.

Well, you would believe that if you weren’t watching his hand which goes from resting around his midsection down to his pocket. He slips his hand in briefly, fingering at something there before pulling his hand back out. As he does so a little hint of white fabric chases his hand out. Just the tiniest bit, barely noticeable. If you didn’t know he had just been rubbing your panties between his fingers you wouldn’t have noticed. Then you watch as his hand drifts down to his thigh.  It pauses there for just a moment before rubbing up and down.

Biting your lip, you fingers find purchase on the dial in your pocket and you slip it up to the next setting. You fight the initial urge to squirm as the vibrations start making their way through your body. You feel the muscles in your legs and belly start to clench. You start to feel a delicious warmth starting at your core and moving out, although honestly you aren’t sure if it's due to the increased stimulation or the fact that you caught Misha licking his lips as he watched you before quickly looking away.

Speaking of Misha, you notice there’s something strange about the way he’s walking back towards his seat. While he’s usually very good about directing his attention mentally and physically to an audience, right now he seems to be trying to cheat his body toward the back of the stage while still looking at the audience. However, when he grabs his seat and turns it backwards before straddling it a la Jared you catch a glimpse if the reason why.

You don’t mean to do it, really you don’t. But the laugh bubbles up through you and out of your mouth before you can stop it. Normally that would be fine, it’s usually quite loud and people are always laughing. But in his focus to get to his chair without the impressive bulge in his pants being noticed Misha had stopped entertaining the crowd and it had gotten oddly quiet.

You slap your hand over your mouth to try and keep it from escaping but fail. You feel the people around you shift to look in your direction but you don’t take your eyes off of Misha. They travel up his body and when you get to his face you find yourself looking into the eyes of Casifer. It’s gone in a flash as he starts talking again, but you know that had there not been thousands of other people you would be paying for that little blunder.

Feeling the burn in your belly you remember that you’re the one with the power right now though so you drop your hand and smirk and give a little shrug. Misha nods his head slightly in a “so that’s how it's gonna be” kind of way. And then you watch as his hand slides down the back of the seat where it had been perched previously to rest on his thigh. _He can’t be serious_ you think. _Not so soon._ You hadn’t even really had time to adjust to the current setting. Yet there it is. His hand starts rubbing his thigh vigorously before going up to join the other hand holding the microphone.

Gritting your teeth and steeling your gaze you feel for the slider with shaking fingers and slide it into the next position.

The gasp you let out is audible, as well as the involuntary doubling over that your body does as you are wracked with waves of pre-orgasm contractions. You cover it with a fake coughing fit before you manage to right yourself in your seat. Thankfully your acting skills are better than your physical restraint and no one seems to be the wiser.

You think even Misha missed it at first since he wasn’t looking at you at the time.  However, judging by the way he bites down on his lower lip like he is trying to keep himself from eating the last piece of cherry pie, you think he must have caught it. Warm dampness pools between your legs which are currently shifting against each other ever so slightly as your body begs for friction. You’re suddenly hit with a wave of panic. When this panel is all over you’re going to have to stand. You’re already at risk of having an obvious wet spot on the back of your dress. If you actually get off then there’s no doubt in your mind that you won’t be able to hide it, even if you _are_ able to hide coming in your seat in the middle of a sea of people.

You’re sitting there with your head tilted slightly down and your eyes closed trying desperately not to whimper as you feel yourself slowly coming undone when something you hear slams you back to the real world.

“So Misha, inquiring minds want to know. Who’s your mystery girl?” a disembodied voice floats over the sound system. You hold your breath as you watch Misha carefully. How pissed off at you was he for laughing at his “situation”? He’s taking way too long to think about his answer but you relax slightly when you realize he is looking everywhere _but_ at you. Well, you relax as much as anyone about to have a mind blowing orgasm in the middle of a crowd of people desperate to find out who you are can, anyway.

“Now if you weren’t too busy sleeping off too much booze from last night you guys could have been healthy like us and you would have met her for yourself.” Misha grins to himself before shrugging “Your loss.” He turns to the other side, clearly having answered the question as much as he’s planning to.

While you find some relief in the fact that the question had been asked and answered you’re finding yourself with a slightly more pressing issue. As you start to feel waves of pleasure rolling over you, your climax becoming a very pressing, very near reality you can’t help but start to squirm slightly in your seat. You try and play it off as getting restless but the small whimper that escapes your lips is very telling.

At least it would be if the room hadn’t just erupted into cheers. Looking at Misha you can see he’s suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable. You’re confused and a little nervous that maybe you should have been listening after all in case the subject of You hadn’t been dropped.

You lean over and whisper to your seatmate, “What did they ask?” You try for incredulous but it’s really more of a choked out whine as your voice is slowly becoming wrecked.

“They asked about an interview that Misha gave where he said that he played Lucifer like he just wanted to have sex with everyone. They asked if he was thinking of sex with Dean and Sam when he was in scenes with them. I can’t believe that got past the screening.” they answer.

Clearing your throat a little you respond, “Misha tells them not to screen his questions.” You watch him squirm a little as he searches his mind for a witty answer. All his nervous ticks are showing. Including, you note with a grin, the one where he gets all shy and tries to hide his face by reaching up and rubbing the back of his head.

You both realize it at the exact same moment. Your hand slips to the dial and slides it to off, a mix of relief and absolute frustration coursing through you. Misha’s reaction is entirely different.

He jumps out of the chair, which teeters a bit before settling yelling, “Wait, no! I didn’t….I didn’t mean...Shit.” Misha looks around, realizing what he actually just did. His eyes drift over you, pausing briefly to take in your relaxed posture and very smug smile. “I mean, darn it, you caught me! I spent all of Season 11 imagining bending Sam and Dean over and having my way with them.” Your eyes go wide for a second. That was pretty extreme even for Misha. That was gonna piss off some people on the internet. You aren’t sure what brought that out;his need to redirect attention from his outburst or his frustration that he prematurely ended your little game. Well, premature for him. Honestly another minute of that torture and you were going to forget yourself and just start screaming out your orgasm in the middle of the crowd. You’re sure that Misha would have loved that but you, not so much.

Granted, you aren’t quite out of the woods yet. Every nerve is at attention now, waiting for something, _anything,_ to light them on fire. You’re a little concerned that just looking at Misha, who has just plopped himself down in his chair like a petulant child, might be enough to set you off. Well, if he throws that I want to take you right here and right now look again maybe.

Thankfully you note on your phone that it’s almost time for this panel to be up. As much as you love seeing him, you don’t know how much more of this you can take. The crowd boos as Rob and Rich filter in, the band close behind. Misha takes his last question. As he’s answering it he takes out his phone and starts tapping away.

He pauses in his answer long enough to state, “One sec, I just want to thank Jared for the lovely picture.” He goes back to the answer he was giving but you hear none of it. You are focused on the buzzing coming from your phone that you forgot was gripped in the hand not in your pocket. Waking it up you see your text messages lit up. Opening it as covertly as you can, you see what Misha was really doing.

_I want it._

_Now._

_I’ll be stopping in the vendor area_ very _briefly._

_Give it to me._

Your eyes go wide.

_How?? There will be hundreds of people out there!_

He’s backing up, waving to the audience as the band plays him out. As he’s disappearing through the curtain you see him start to type.

_Figure it out. I have faith in you._

You feel that nagging bubble of panic settle in as you stand and start rushing out of the room.

“Hey, where are you headed?” Fi goes to grab your arm as you go to run by where she is standing in the aisle.

“Bathroom.” you respond as you swiftly dodge her hand and fall in with the crowd. Thankfully you get to the bathroom before the mass of people headed in that direction. You go into a stall and lift up your skirt. You can feel the wetness that has slicked up your thighs and you pray that no one got a good look at your rear as you were rushing to the bathroom. Sliding the bullet out you slip it through the hole in your pocket before fishing the whole apparatus out. Winding the cord you start to wrack your brain. How on earth are you going to make this hand off without anyone noticing something amiss?

You exit the stall and walk quickly to the paper towel dispenser. Grabbing one you wrap up the toy as discreetly as you can before going to the sink to wash your hands. You hear voices elevate outside the bathroom and you know you’re running out of time. Then it hits you. You've been doing your damnedest to avoid Misha to keep from being found out. Really what you should have been doing to blend in was fangirling it up.

Knowing your window of time is getting smaller you take a deep breath and step out of the bathroom. You can see that there is still a crowd around the RA table so you know that Misha is still there somewhere amongst the masses. Now you just have to wait. You start to pace but realize this isn’t the _most_ natural of things. So you slip to the other side of the hall where you judge Misha is most likely to be traveling with his entourage. You make a silent prayer that his security isn’t going to think you’re some sort of a threat and tackle you. _Officer I was just trying to give him a vibrator!_

You see the crowd beginning to shift and open up so you know Misha is on the move. You pull out your phone and pretend to be engrossed in something, while holding the vibrator in a death grip with the other hand. If you mess up this exchange there will be no saving it. You might even literally die of embarrassment here in the lobby.

You hear the cries of “Misha!” and “I love you!” growing closer. Glancing over your shoulder you catch sight of him as he starts moving down the lobby in your direction. He is waving to the people around him looking side to side as his handler and security flank him on either side, just a couple of steps behind him. You judge about where you need to be and cheat a little to the left and wait.

When you hear Misha’s voice just a couple of steps away as he says something to a fan you move. Turning with your arms clasped together, one holding your phone and one holding the paper towel bundle, you pray Misha will be where you anticipated and you are not disappointed. You slam, harder than you anticipate, into a wall of muscle and fabric.

“Woah, are you okay?” Misha puts his hands up on your arms to ‘steady’ you, holding you probably a little closer than would normally be acceptable but you’re grateful for the cover his arms provide.

“Oh my gosh, Misha! I’m so sorry!” You slide your hand across Misha’s abdomen to opposite side, slipping it under the material of his jacket. You’re pleased at the almost inaudible whimper and the clenching of muscles that your touch produces. Clearly he’s still feeling a little desperate himself. Feeling for the inside pocket of his coat you find it and are relieved to feel that it’s empty.

“Misha, you’re so amazing! I love you so much!” You slip the bundle into his pocket and when it fits you feel your body relax. Being able to enjoy yourself a little more now you let your fingers drag across Misha’s side and tummy as you retract your hand, the little giggle he lets out as you hit a ticklish spot making you feel weak in the knees.

“Can I have a hug?” Okay so this playing up the fangirling bit is kind of fun.

“Of course!” Misha says as he pulls you close, his hands resting on your lower back as you put your arms around his neck. Standing up on your tippy toes you whisper against his cheek.  

“You’re running out of pockets Mr. Collins.” reminding him that now he has _two_ pockets housing items that have recently been touching your most intimate of areas.

You hear a low rumble from his chest before pulling away and out of his reach. No need to give him too much opportunity to embarrass you. You grab the nearest person to you and make sure to put a good show on of being excited by jumping up and down with them and squealing as you watch Misha walk off. He glances back over his shoulder once to flash you a wink before turning and disappearing down the hallway that leads to the backstage area.

You walk back into the hall to gather your abandoned things and sit for a moment, feeling both incredibly relaxed and incredibly frustrated at the same time. Your only solace in that is the fact that clearly Misha is feeling the same. As you're thinking of him it’s almost like you summoned him as your phone buzzes.

_I need to see you again. Please._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four is already mostly finished and should be out by this weekend. I love feedback and welcome any!


	4. Saturday Night Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe alcohol wasn't the Best idea when the reader is already having a hard time making logical choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder, Misha is in an open relationship. I <3 Vicki

You’re about to respond affirmatively when out of the corner of your eye you catch sight of your roommates chatting a few rows back. You remember that you promised them that after getting changed and waiting for autographs you’d go have a sit down dinner and drinks with the girls.

Standing up you walk over to your friends. “Hey guys, I’m really kinda beat. Would you be terribly upset if I begged off dinner?” 

You feel that familiar sink in your stomach as the weight of their concerned looks hits you.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” Amanda leans in and says in an exaggerated whisper, “Is it what Misha did at the start of his panel? Did someone figure it out? He isn’t very subtle.” 

You put your hands up to stem the tide of questions.

“No! No, nothing like that. It’s just been a very long day and I’m not very hungry. I’d rather just relax in the room before the concert.” 

“Okay, that sounds like a plan then. Lets all go back to the room and we can order a pizza from room service.” Fi decides with a sharp nod. This is not working.

“Guys you don’t have to change your plans for me, really!”

Jenn puts her hand on your shoulder, “Look, we’ve already talked about this. We are all of the firm opinion that you are not to be left alone. We agree that none of us believe that you were planning on coming back when I caught you up in the room. You were looking far too guilty.”

Sighing, you realize there is no talking them out of this and therefore no alone time with Misha. Trying hard to look appreciative, or at least keep the pout off your lips you agree to go to dinner. As you walk over to your bag you tap out a quick reply.

_ Can’t. Dinner and drinks with the girls at Fuse before concert. Won’t let me out of their sight. You have  _ no  _ idea how bummed I am. But I’ll see you at auto’s <3 _

Stupid heart. 

You grab your bag and follow your friends back to the hotel room, lagging behind a bit hoping to to hear back from Misha. You don’t wait too long.

_ I’m seriously regretting not taking advantage of the time we had together this morning, regardless of the circumstances. _

A few minutes later…

_ In the green room for a bit before autos and then I’ll be heading back to my room. Let me know if anything changes. I’ll just be...sitting alone with your panties and vibrator. _

Shaking your head you start typing as you walk.

_ Why not go out? Don’t you usually go out and enjoy yourself during the concert? _

You all reach the room and Jenn unlocks it and you all file in. Since you aren’t changing you check your makeup and hair and do a quick touch up before sitting down on the bed. Your phone buzzes again.

_ I don’t want to risk missing a chance to be alone with you. You never know, one of us might get blood flow back to the brain and come up with something creative. _

Giggling to yourself you type back your response.

_ Okay but if you use either of my things to help you get blood flow back to your brain I deserve a picture. _

“Well at least she’s smiling while looking at her phone. That’s a good sign.” Amanda says as she slips on her dress. When your phone buzzes again, she tilts her head and asks, “Who’re you talking to?”

“Just a friend back home. They were watching a periscope of Mark’s panel and wanted to tell me that they saw me when he walked by my seat.” It wasn’t totally a lie. You had just gotten that text a couple of hours ago. You look back to your phone and try and school your face a little better this time.

_ Hahaha Nope. But really? “Things”? Can’t bring yourself to say the words hmm? I think we might have to work on this. If I only had enough time alone with you I would have you saying all sorts of dirty things to me. Well, saying or screaming. _

Groaning inwardly you’re glad for the distraction of your friends being ready to head back down to the hall. You get down there just in time to hear your row called up for your Mark Sheppard and Matt Cohen autographs. You are almost to the front when you hear row A called for Misha autographs and you know he is in the hall, hidden away by the partition. 

You keep glancing over to the other side of the hall as you approach Mark’s table and absently hand his staff your photo. He finishes with the person in front of you and smiles up at you. You smile back distractedly as your eyes dart to the side again.

“You alright love?” Mark looks up with a quirked eyebrow and a half smile.

“Sorry,” you shift awkwardly on your feet. “Long day.” You smile and shrug as you take your picture back and slip it into your binder. “Thank you.” You pull out Matt’s photo and head over to the table a few feet away. 

You feel your phone buzz as you get into line and pull it out. You earn a glare from the volunteer tending Matt’s line which reminds you that you aren’t supposed to have your phone out but you are quick enough to pull up the text with the picture attached that you just received.

You can’t stop the audible gasp that escapes your lips. It's so loud that even though you are still a few people away Matt looks up from what he is signing and grins at you. You feel you your face flushing from embarrassment.

The picture is of two girls that were cosplaying Cas and Dean that you had seen around. Clearly they must have just gone through Misha’s line and he had decided he needed to share with you. It was an ordinary cosplay with the exception of the collar that was around “Dean’s” neck attached to a leash being held by “Cas”. 

_ Think I should ask if I can borrow that? _

Praying Misha hadn’t actually done that you look up as you shove your phone back into your pocket before the volunteer kicks you out. You search the crowd frantically and you spot the couple walking to the back of the hall, still sporting the collar and leash and you breath a sigh of relief as you reach Matt’s table.

You hand your photo to the volunteer, who is still glaring at you, and wait for Matt to finish before moving on to yours. He signs it before handing it back with a smile and a wink. You slip it into your binder and head for your seat, hopeful for a few minutes to collect yourself.

Unfortunately that isn’t in the cards as you hear your row for called for Misha. Taking a deep breath you head over, making sure to let most of the other people in your row get past you. You take your place in line and slip the photo op from earlier out of its sleeve. You can’t help but smile as you look at it and see the glint in Misha’s eye and the way his fingers curl possessively at the base of your neck. It’s subtle and you’re certain no one would notice if they didn’t know to look. 

The line is moving quickly, a surprise for a Misha line since he usually ignores his handlers and talks way too much. You reach the point where you can see him just around the partition and your breath catches. You hadn’t really thought this through, would Misha behave himself after all that teasing?

You’re watching him intently; thankfully nothing different than any of the other fangirls in line, when he looks up and sees you, his eyes locking onto yours. Your mouth dries out suddenly and you lick your lips to remedy this. Misha tracks the movement and swallows hard before shifting in his seat. Realizing this is not the best situation you decide to spend the rest of your time in line staring at the Misha in the picture rather than flesh and blood Misha.

Stepping to the front of the line you hand your photo to the feeder sitting beside Misha and wait for him to finish. Your eyes are glued on the volunteer in front of you but you catch Misha glancing your way out of the corner of your eye. 

You watch as the girl hands your photo over to Misha. You slide over and look Misha dead in the eye and put on your best ‘excited’ smile trying to look normal but feeling the flush spread across your face, neck and cleavage. You can see the gears turning in Misha’s head as he reads your face. You aren’t sure what he was planning to say but you can see the decision not to say it.

“Well hello, cutie! Are you having a good time?” Relief pours over you as you realize that Misha is going to play it cool. Your smile turns genuine and you let a little truth slip out.

“Time of my life.” you bite down on your bottom lip to stifle a giggle. 

You didn’t intend it to have an effect on Misha but clearly it does as you see his eyes go dark before he looks down to sign your op. Thinking it best to get out of here quickly you reach for your photo. Misha holds it high on the side so when you grab the same side you feel your fingers brush his and sparks shoot up your arm and straight to your core.

He lets go of the photo and you turn and walk away, the small amount of contact making your head feel floaty. As an afterthought you look down to see his signature, which looks normal. It’s the bold “MINE” that is written above it that has you closing your eyes as you hear his voice in your head echoing this sentiment. 

You quickly slide the op into your binder and put your binder in your bag before you sit and wait for Fi. Amanda and Jenn are already waiting in front of Fuse since they don’t have Gold autos. As you see Fi making her way over you start typing a text.

_ Heading to dinner. Might not answer right away. Friends might throttle me if on phone whole time. _

When Fi gets to your seat you can see she is struggling not to laugh. Part of you really wants to know what was so funny at Misha’s table, part of you wants to ignore it entirely but curiosity wins out.

“What’s up?” you ask as she sits down next to you. 

She hesitates for a moment, her face sobering slightly before she hands the op back to you. It's the op that the two of you had done the previous year with Misha dressed as Cas. You thought it was hilarious at the time. Misha was standing with his back to the camera with his coat spread out flasher style while he looked over his shoulder at the camera. You and Fi were on either side and you both sported looks and posture that suggested you were doing naughty things behind the coat.

You couldn’t even believe what Misha had written above his signature.

“Your friend is cute and gives great handjobs, can I have her number?”  __ Your eyes go wide as you start to stutter and shake your head.

“Fi, I swear I didn’t...we didn’t” you find yourself getting irritated as Fi is unable to contain her laughter.

“It’s all good. Misha laughed when he saw the picture and said something about Cas finally getting the handjob Dean refused to give him. Then he asked me first if he could write something ‘naughty’ on my op. His words, not mine. I’ll admit I didn’t expect this thought.” Fi lets another giggle slip out before she slowly pulls the op from your hands to tuck away in her binder. 

You send a murderous glare her way, it being clear she is laughing at your discomfort. But a squishy hug and a smacking kiss on your forehead has you forgiving her as the two of you head to meet the others.

When you get to the restaurant it’s packed. Luckily most people are grabbing things to go and you manage to get a table fairly quickly. Your waiter lets you know that there is a long wait for food but drinks should be out pretty quickly. You order food and drinks and settle in for the wait. 

You mostly listen as your friends go on about their ops. Jenn had done the R2M Meet and Greet and was filling you all in on what had been talked about. Fi is surprisingly mum on what Misha had written for her autograph.

You guys get and finish your first round of drinks and the food hasn’t come out yet but it’s no surprise considering it looks like every person attending the con has decided to come here before the concert. Knowing your waiter is slammed and deciding that one drink isn’t enough pregaming you and Fi head up to the bar and find an empty spot big enough for the two of you and you settle in to wait for the bartender.

Luckily the staff is very efficient at the bar and it isn’t too long before the bartender is waving at you to let you know he is on his way. Just then you feel someone’s body press just behind and between you and Fi as you feel a warm hand come down on your bare shoulder. 

“Hello ladies, mind if I jump in on your order? I’m happy to treat! I escaped autos for a quick drink run but they’re expecting me back soon.” Misha’s voice so close to your ear so unexpectedly has your eyes drifting shut and your body sagging just a little. 

You feel Misha shift ever so slightly and you find him pressed against your back and hip. You’re totally unsure if he was doing it to support you or just taking advantage and frankly you don’t care. 

All you’re focused on is the outline of Misha’s cock pressed against you, which seems to be on its way to fully hard. You’re amazed to find you can already feel the heat and wetness pooling between your legs. This is also when you remember that you  _ still _ don’t have underwear on. In all honesty it never even occurred to you that you could put some on after Misha’s panel.

“Sure,” you hear Fi say next to you. “But you're buying a round for our whole table handsome.” 

You turn and smirk at Fi. Big mistake. You find your face about two inches from Misha’s as he laughs his beautiful laugh and you find yourself mesmerized. 

You jump as the bartender pops up unexpectedly and asks what he can get for you. Misha’s left hand is still resting on Fi’s shoulder, but his right, the one that was just lightly drawing tiny circles on your bare shoulder, slides down to settle at your hip.

“My treat, my choice. Everyone drinking liquor?” Misha asks with a grin. You eye him suspiciously as you nod. “Great! Can I get five panty droppers please.” You narrow your eyes to glare at Misha which only increases his mirth at his clever little joke. You contemplate if you’ve already had too much to drink when you decide that you need to return the favor and make him squirm.

Leaning back just a little you angle your head so you are closer to Misha’s ear. Misha in turn lowers his head enough to close the gap. To any casual observer you look like two people trying to talk over a noisy bar. And that’s what you are.  But the words that come out of your mouth are what make it so interesting.

“Just being this close to you has already made me so wet.” As you whisper you make sure that your lips brush softly against Misha’s ear. “Might get messy since someone stole my panties.” You pull your face away from Misha’s, stealing his patented wink.

You don't have to wonder if your words have Misha all twisted up. His hand grips your hip so tight you know you are going to have five little bruises there in the morning. He pulls you into his now bulging erection and shifts his hips slightly to give himself just a little friction, but not so much that it's noticeable to the people currently crowded around the three of you.

Misha leans forward to whisper into your ear. “I  _ will  _ take you here and now. So go ahead and keep teasing me. It’ll be fun.” As he talks he angles his face so that it is hidden by your hair when he bites down on your earlobe. You white knuckle the edge of the bar that you had been holding on to for stability to keep yourself from responding. You know Misha is just saying that to make you squirm. He wouldn’t  _ actually  _ do that...you don’t think.

Misha’s attention is pulled to some of the people crowding behind the three of you. He leans back enough for people coming up behind him to snake a camera in front of him to get selfies while waiting but he doesn’t release his hold on you and Fi, nor does he allow even a breath of space to come between your body and his.

Feeling a bit reckless you decide to call Misha’s bluff (okay so maybe that first drink was pretty strong). Ever so slowly you shift your weight on your feet back and forth as you slide more directly in front of Misha. Now instead of being pressed up against your hip his cock is resting just above your ass. Maybe, just maybe, adding a little wiggle at the end wasn’t the  _ best _ idea.

You suddenly feel the hand on your hip start to gather the fabric of the skirt of your dress, inching the hem up slowly. You feel the blood drain from your face as you realize you may have pushed a little too far. You feel Misha’s weight shift slightly before he starts to slide his right leg between yours, forcing them to open little by little. All the while you hear him laughing and talking to the people behind you. Taking pictures with people, on cameras that you are pretty certain are about to capture quite the show.

You breath a sigh of relief when the bartender puts the last drink on the bar in front of you and you feel the material on your leg drop back down to its normal resting place. He keeps his hand on your hip as he releases Fi’s shoulder to pull out his wallet before depositing cash on the bar. He picks up one of the drinks and takes a sip.

Licking his lips he grins and says, “Second best panties today.” Taking a deep breath you pick up one of the other glasses in front of you and take a long drink. Misha’s ‘way too adorable for a grown man’ giggle plays in your ear.

“Well ladies, it’s been a pleasure waiting here with you. Thank you very much for letting me join you for a few moments but I’m afraid I must be going. Don’t have too much fun without me now.” Misha finishes with a wink. 

He squeezes your hip one last time before turning away, allowing his hand to drift casually across your ass before he starts heading through the crowd towards the exit. He stops every few feet to take another picture before clearing the door and taking a majority of the crowd with him.

You and Fi gather up the glasses and make your way back to the table. Settling back in at your table you know you should probably make this drink last but you haven’t even touched your food before you’ve drained your glass. You can’t stop thinking about what could have happened if it weren’t for the bartender’s excellent timing. You’re pretty sure Misha was bluffing, but not entirely.

After finishing dinner you order a round of drinks to go and settle up the bill before joining the line for the concert. The girls are talking excitedly about what songs they’re hoping makes the set list and who they’re hoping makes an appearance. All you can focus on is the fact that your phone has buzzed exactly five times since Misha left the bar and you haven’t checked it yet. You tell yourself that it’s because you don’t want your friends complaining but you know you are just a big ole chicken shit and don’t know what he has to say.

Quieting your nerves you take a deep breath and pull your phone out, trying to look casual as you lean against the wall so no one can see your phone over your shoulder. As you had guessed your text message box was lit up. 

_ I think that was decent punishment for being late and laughing at my discomfort. You are so lucky the drinks came... _

The next text had come in five minutes later.

_ Okay, I wasn't really going to have my way with you. _

One minute.

_ I promise I would never do anything you wouldn't want. I wouldn't embarrass or hurt you like that. _

Three minutes.

_ You believe me, right? _

Five minutes.

_ Are you there? I'm sorry. _

Shit. The last text came in more than a half an hour ago. Misha thought you were mad at him, maybe even ignoring him. You start to respond when the line starts to move. Swearing a blue streak in your mind you pick up your bag and your drink and head in.

After you sit down you start racking your brain trying to figure out something. You contemplate just sneaking out but a glance back at Fi and you know that won’t go unnoticed. As the band is introduced and they start their first song you try and blend in with the crowd, cheering and screaming.

You love Louden Swain and the concert is a big highlight for the weekend but you can’t stop thinking about Misha. You’re frustrated that he might be upset right now because he thinks he did something wrong. You’re frustrated that you both, as two consenting adults, are having such a hard time just being together. Mostly you’re frustrated because you know your need to see Misha, even briefly, will mean more deception and you’re running low on lies and excuses.

Taking a sip of your drink you contemplate whether or not it is a good idea to keep drinking considering your desire to make poor choices, the world be damned. Then it comes to you. You pull out your phone and start typing.

_ Can you meet me at the individual unisex bathroom inside Fuse in fifteen minutes? _

You take a sip of your drink to calm yourself while you wait for a response. What if he’s mad at  _ you _ for not responding? This didn’t occur to you until just now. What if he doesn’t answer you? You breathe a sigh of relief when your phone buzzes.

_ Yes, absolutely. I’ll see you then. Are you okay? _

Smiling at his ever present concern for your comfort you type out a response.

_ I’m great now that I know I’m going to see you. But I need you to know that I  _ will _ let you know if I’m upset. I don’t want you to worry that you’re going to break me. I’m not going to lie, you make me incredibly nervous. But I like it. Maybe we need a code word or something, I don’t know… _

You’re frustrated that you might not be expressing your thoughts clearly.

_ Are you trying to say you need a safeword? _

Squinting at the phone you can practically  _ see _ the smirk you know is on his face.

_ Yes, and stop laughing. _

Looking at the time you realize you need to get your plan started. You drain your drink much faster than you probably should and grab your purse. Standing, you walk back to Fi, waving your hand at her when she starts to stand.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom and then down to the bar to grab another drink.” You shake your empty glass to demonstrate. “Can you watch my bag for me?” You figure if you leave your bag then they won’t assume you’re trying to skip out and let you go alone.

“I can go with you if you want.” You can see the hesitation in her eyes.

“No way! This is your favorite part of the weekend. I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, who knows when Jensen is going to be coming on stage.” You had heard him doing a sound check earlier so you used Fi’s excitement about hearing that in your favor. “I promise I’ll be back. You know I wouldn’t miss She Waits for anything.” You can see the relief wash over her. You pull your makeup pouch out and leave your bag and head out the back door. 

Glancing around the lobby at the few people milling about you pray that the bar is equally as empty. You pass the bathrooms and head straight for the bar. Pausing at the entrance you take a deep breath, your head spinning a little from the alcohol, then you head in and turn toward the bathrooms.

You’re not sure what you were expecting but when Misha isn’t standing there your heart sinks a little. You check the time on your phone and see you’re a couple of minutes early. Trying to steady your nerves and failing you begin to pace in front of the bathroom doors. 

You’re on your second trip down the hall when you feel strong hands grab you from behind and pull you into one of the bathrooms.The door slams shut as two arms wrap around you, pinning your arms to your side and your back against firm muscle. You hear a low growl at your ear “Mine.” You close your eyes and let your body melt into Misha’s before you feel yourself being released. 

You spin away and back up to the wall for support. Misha does the same. You both stand there awkwardly staring at each other for a few beats before Misha speaks, his voice already hoarse.

“How long do we have?”

You bite your bottom lip and look at the ground, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes. “Not long, fifteen minutes maybe?”

“So, I...I’m so sorry if I pushed you too far or I made you think I would…” his voice trailed off.

“Misha.” You wait until he looks up and meets your gaze before you smile softly. “You didn’t push me. I pushed you and you responded. I think we already established that I don’t do anything I don’t want to do but,” you pause before continuing “kale.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say kale?” he tilted his head, his face awash with adorable confusion.

You feel your cheeks filling with color but you don’t break eye contact. 

“My safe word, you know...just in case.” Misha chuckles softly as he watches you before he pushes slowly away from the wall and walks toward you. 

When he gets to you he places soft kisses on your cheeks then your forehead then your nose and finally a soft, almost chaste kiss on your lips. His kisses move down to your jaw then to your neck. He moves up to your ear where he whispers. 

“We’re down to thirteen minutes. Not enough time to do what I really want to do to you but I can definitely finish what I started earlier.” He starts to kneel as his hands reach for the hem of your dress to start gathering material but you grab the material of Misha’s jacket and pull him back up.

“No, wait.” Misha raises his eyebrow at you and waits silently for an explanation, your dress still bunched up almost to your hips in his hands. Your mouth starts getting a little dry and you surprisingly feel you need a little more booze to say what you have to say. You speak your next words very softly and can’t look at Misha’s eyes, instead choosing to look down at his Adam’s apple.  “I want to taste you.”

Misha lets go of your dress with one hand and reaches up to gently direct your face up with a finger under your chin. “Right here sweetie. You’re going to have to say that again a little louder if you want me to hear it.” He waits patiently as you calm your nerves.

“I...well, it’s just that…” you pause and take a deep breath before continuing. “You’ve already tasted me. I want to taste you.” 

You break eye contact and start praying that the ground will swallow you up. Misha, who seems to be having trouble forming words for once, groans and crashes his lips into yours, his hand still holding your chin in place.

The kiss is bruising and greedy, his teeth nipping at your lips until you open to allow him access. His tongue invades your mouth as he explores every inch before pulling his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath as he moves onto your jaw and then your neck. You grip tighter onto Misha’s jacket as he moves down to the base of your neck where he pushes the strap of your dress aside to reveal his previous work. He licks and nips at the mark, deepening it's color before letting the strap slip back into place. You are beginning to wonder if he is going to ignore what you asked when he pulls away and takes your face between his hands.

“Are you sure you want to do this here?” He waves his hand around indicating your current location, “You don’t have to.” You place a hand on top of one of his and smile softly.

“Misha I want you so badly right now that I’d go down on you center stage in the middle of a panel if that was the only option.” 

Misha’s eyes squeeze shut and he swallows hard.

“I see we’re working on that whole saying dirty things. I like it.” Misha says. He releases your face and steps back before removing his jacket. You raise an eyebrow at him in question. He smiles as he folds his jacket before laying it on the floor at your feet.

“How chivalrous of you,” you say with a smirk. Then you start to feel a pit forming in your stomach as he watches you silently with a smile on his face and desire radiating from his eyes. You start shifting nervously.

“Misha...I...I should probably warn you...I mean.” Frustrated that words are not forming the way you want them to you bite down on your bottom lip and furrow your brow in concentration before continuing. “I’m sure you’ve been with lots of people who are really...really, I mean, people who are really good at...that. And I’m not a blushing virgin...I mean clearly we both know that….but…” your voice trails off as your babbling loses steam.

Misha squints before leaning in slightly and says in a low voice, “I’m sorry, are you calling me a slut?” 

You feel your eyes go wide and you start to make unintelligible babbling noises while shaking your head emphatically. Misha’s face melts into a smile and his laughter fills the room.  Giving him a half hearted glare before smiling back you grasp onto his hand for support as you slowly kneel down to the floor.

Looking up and meeting Misha’s gaze you say, “Just...just tell me what you want, or don’t. I...I don’t want to disappoint you.” Misha groans as he releases your hand and moves to cup your chin.

“Sweetie after the way things have gone today, if you keep looking at me like that I may just come untouched.”

Licking your lips you say, “Well we can’t have that.” 

Tentatively you reach for Misha’s belt and unbuckle it. You can feel your heart pounding away in your chest as you unbutton Misha’s pants and pull the zipper down. A small giggle escapes your lips.

Misha’s eyes go wide. “ _ What _ is so  _ funny _ ?”

“To be honest, I was kind of expecting orange,” you say gesturing at the exposed underwear covering the impressive looking bulge in front of you.

You feel, rather than see, Misha’s fingers start to wind themselves up in your hair before he tugs back, tilting your head up. He squats down to be almost eye level with you.

“You have this habit,” he pauses to put a gentle kiss on your jaw, “of laughing,” a kiss on the other side of your jaw. “At the most inopportune times.” 

Misha moves down to your currently exposed neck. You feel his lips and stubble brush over the sensitive skin before you feel a sharp pain. You yelp, but aren’t able to pull away with Misha holding you in place.

“Misha! That’s...that’s gonna leave a mark people can see!”

Misha pulls back with a smug look. “Wouldn’t be much of a punishment otherwise, would it.” You feel your cheeks flush, afraid you’d actually upset him until he flashes you a wink.

Smiling to yourself your reach up to grasp the waist of both his pants and underwear and you slide them both down slowly. Your breath catches as his already fully erect cock springs free in front of you. The combination of the size of it and the fact that Misha still has his fingers wound up in your hair has you shifting nervously.

Misha reads the apprehension in your face and whispers just loud enough for you to hear him, his voice sounding rather rough, “Sometimes it can be...difficult to verbalize a safe word. In those instances two taps on my leg will be sufficient.” 

Looking up at Misha with gratitude, you reach up and begin exploring his cock with your fingertips, enjoying the sharp intake of breath you hear as you first make contact. You take your time, trailing over every ridge, vein and curve. You feel Misha’s grasp tighten in your hair and you look up to see him watching you, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying my body love, but we’re getting short on time and if I don’t get to feel your mouth on me before it's up you might see a grown man cry.” 

Grinning at Misha you lean forward, not breaking eye contact. You dart the tip of your tongue up to dip into the bit of precome that is beginning to appear, barely touching skin before returning it to your mouth and shifting back. You smirk up at Misha, and that’s when you realize your mistake.

“Still haven’t learned it’s naughty to tease, have you little girl.” You expect to start feeling pressure at the back of your head when Misha starts to force you forward to gain relief but you’re confused to find it's the exact opposite. You find yourself suddenly free as Misha disentangles his hand and reaches down to pull up his pants and underwear.

You reach out quickly to still his hands with yours and ask, “What are you doing?” noting a hint of panic and a lot of whine in your voice.

“Well it wouldn’t be much of a punishment to make you do what you already want, now would it,” he says softly in your ear from his half bent over position. He straightens up pulling his pants and underwear all the way up in one swift movement.

Grasping his hands tightly you hear yourself start to beg, your face flooding with heat from embarrassment at the shake in your voice, “Please Misha, I’m sorry. Please…”

“Please what?” There’s that fucking Dom brow again. 

As soon as you see it you know you’ll do anything to be allowed to please this man. At least for the next ten minutes.

“Please Misha,” your voice breaks, “please let me suck your cock. Please let me taste your come.” 

Misha smiles down at you, satisfaction shining in his eyes.

“I could never deny you anything.” He allows you to slide his clothes back down and this time you waste no time. Misha replaces his hand in your hair and you dive in, licking every inch with the pace of someone afraid they are going to have their favorite treat taken away any second.

You feel Misha’s free hand gently touch your shoulder to calm you and you relax into it, tracing the vein that runs the length of Misha’s erection before slowly circling the head of it. You want nothing more than to take your time to memorize every bit of him but you know the clock is ticking down.

Looking up you lock eyes with Misha’s as you slowly start to slip your lips over the head of his cock. You stop at the ridge and apply a small amount of suction while you lap at the precome gathering in the slit. You pull off, breaking the suction with an obscene pop before sucking his dick back in.

You watch as he fights to keep his eyes open as you slide him deeper, adjusting to his girth and length. As you do so you massage the ropey vein running the length with your tongue, alternating flattening and cupping. Your right hand gathers some of the slick moisture coming from the corners of your mouth to lubricate as your other hand slides up his thigh to clasp onto his hip, your fingernails digging slightly into the spot where hip turns to the swell of Misha’s ass. As you begin bobbing up and down your hand matches the pace, covering the length that your mouth can’t take. You hollow out your cheeks and increase the stimulation while letting him slip deeper and deeper.

You feel Misha’s hand tighten in your hair as the other comes up to join. You know what he wants, you can see it in his eyes and feel it in the tension in his arms. You can also feel his hesitation, even when he wants to be in control still being more concerned about your comfort than his pleasure. You let the hand pumping his dick drop down to rest near Misha’s leg. You look up at him as you gently rub his leg to remind him that you have the option to stop any time. Then you take a deep breath and wink at him.

He reads the permission in your eyes and you feel his hands slowly begin to put pressure on the back of your head. You feel the tip of his swollen cock start to slide in your throat for just a brief second as you start to fight the urges of your gag reflex before he pulls his hips away from you. He slides back in again, a little deeper, staying a little longer. You fight to relax your throat as you watch his face. His eyes are closed and his head is thrown back and there are the most delicious sounds coming from his mouth.

He pulls back out again and is starting to slide back in at the same agonizingly slow pace when your phone, which fell out of your hand face up when Misha snatched you from the hall, starts to buzz loudly. You both freeze and look down. You can see the alert that you have a text message from Fi. Misha sighs heavily as he begins to untangle his hands from your hair, preparing to let you go on your way. No way in hell are you having that though.

You growl in your throat in a way that has Misha’s eyes going wide. In a flash both your hands are on Misha’s hips, your fingertips curling around to his ass. You hear his sharp intake of breath as your nails dig sharply into his flesh as you pull his pelvis toward your face, his cock slamming home in your throat. You struggle briefly against your gag reflex but are able to relax your throat and find your nose buried in the soft curls at the base of Misha’s cock, which is now fully engulfed inside your mouth and throat.

Misha starts to pull his hips away but when you refuse to allow any give from your hands he stills. And then you start to swallow around him and you undo him piece by piece. You massage the underside of his cock with your tongue as the walls of your throat constrict around the head. Misha’s hands grip tighter to the back of your head, pressing you into him.

You know you should probably let him go, tap out, something. But you don’t do either, even as tears start to pool in the corners of your eyes and you start to see spots. Instead you keep swallowing as you start to hum and then Misha shatters. You feel the ropes of hot come shooting down your throat as you fight to swallow every last bit. You’ve never been much for swallowing but for Misha, you wouldn’t waste one drop, especially not if it means him looking at you the way he is right now as you take his entire load.

His cock finishes emptying and you allow yourself to let go. Well truth be told you didn’t have much of a choice as his softening cock slips out of your mouth and your body starts to sag from lack of oxygen. Misha is down in a second to catch you before you hit the ground. You smile up at him, the concerned look on his face tugging at your heart.

“You should have tapped out, why didn’t you tap?” he asks softly as he brushes your hair out of your face.

“We weren’t leaving this room until  _ one _ of us came. Since you were already in my mouth I figured it should be you.” your voice is hoarse as you speak, punctuating your words with a giggle at the end. “I’m okay, Misha. Just a little light headed. I’m better now.”

You smile shyly, “But if it means I get to stay in your arms like this then I can say I’m not better.” 

Misha shakes his head, glaring at you sternly before swooping down to capture you in a bruising kiss. The fact that you know he can taste himself in your mouth as his tongue slides past your lips to dance with your own has the coiling heat in your belly ready to snap. 

When he doesn’t seem to be intending to pull away any time soon you tap his kneeling leg vigorously and he pulls away and you can’t help but let the giggle bubble up from your abused throat at the renewed look of concern.

“I’m good, Misha. Just being proactive this time.” Misha helps you to your feet after you grab your phone from the floor. You watch him pull up his pants and underwear before picking up his jacket as a wave of pure regret washes over you at having those beautiful parts covered up so quickly. Checking your phone you see what you expected to see. Fi is wondering where the heck you are and threatening to come find you. You shoot off a quick text.

_ Ran into our manager friend from Fuse that we met last year. Chatted with him for a bit while I had my drink. Hitting the bathroom now then I’ll be back. _

You tuck your phone back into your pocket and scoop up your makeup bag which had fallen from your pocket before heading to the mirror to survey the damage. Taking in the sight of your face you sigh at the amount of repair work you have. At least you were wearing waterproof mascara. You open your makeup bag and pull out some wipes, preparing to start when you see Misha come up behind you in the mirror. 

“I want to remember how beautifully wrecked you look right now.” he whispers in your ear before nibbling on the exposed skin of your neck. You watch the mirror as he slides his phone up in front of the two of you. He watches your reflection as he bites down softly and you feel your head start to loll back and your eye close. You hear the click as he takes his picture. You feel him plant one more soft kiss on the base of your neck before he pulls away.

“I should...probably leave now. That way no one will see us leaving at the same time. That and if I stay much longer I’ll be hard again and won’t be able to resist bending you over that sink.”

You grip the sink in question tightly to keep yourself from turning into Misha before he can back away. You smile at him softly in the mirror as you watch him reach the door, his face full of regret and frustration. He opened the door behind him and with one last long look he slipped out, closing the door after himself.

When he is safely out of sight you rush to the door and flip the lock before taking a deep calming breath. Then you set about the work of repairing your makeup and trying to get your hair to lose the “just fucked” look it was currently sporting. You thought to yourself as you smoothed your hair that Misha would be probably be the type to pull a girl's hair as he fucked her from behind.

Shuddering you do your best to clear your mind of such thoughts as you complete your mission. You also use a little bit of makeup to cover the exposed mark that Misha had left as punishment. Surveying you work you feel satisfied that no one will suspect anything is amiss before you sweep your belongings up and tuck them into your pockets before heading for the door.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you see Fi and Jenn standing in the hall outside the door. You giggle nervously as you ask “How long have you guys been out here?”

“Just got here,” Fi says. “We wanted to make sure you weren’t actually here before we went storming off to the room to drag you back, but here you are.” She puts her arm around your shoulder and gives you a squeeze. You pray that she doesn’t pick up on the scent of come and sweat that you are certain is radiating off of you.

The three of you head back to the hall and as luck would have it you are just taking your seat when Jensen walks on stage to sing. You are settling in to enjoy the show as the band starts playing the opening to Whipping Post. Are you crazy or does Jensen keep stopping to look in your direction as he scans back and forth over the audience? You’re certain you’re crazy. There’s no way he can even see the audience with the lights in his face.

As the audience goes crazy when the song is finished and Jensen does his little bow and blow kisses at the audience with both hands thing you  _ know _ you’re going crazy because you’re  _ certain  _ that he just looked directly at you and winked. 

The feeling’s gone in a flash as he walks off the stage and you sit back and enjoy the rest of the show. You feel the familiar sting of tears that you always do when Rob sings She Waits and then the rest of the cast that performed, sans Jensen, comes out and sings With a Little Help From My Friends. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket and pull it out as the lights are coming back up.

_ Any chance you can come spend the night with me? _

The coiled knot in your belly rears its ugly head at the simple, straight forward question. Sighing with pure frustration you respond:

_ There’s no way my roommates wouldn’t notice me gone. _

After sending the text you hesitated a moment before sending another.

_ But they’re all local and planning on driving home tomorrow night after autographs and I’m here until Monday. _

You wait hopefully for his response, your shoulders sagging with disappointment when you receive it.

_ They have me on a red eye leaving at 10:30p. I have to head out as soon as autos are finished. _

You muster up a weak response:

_ Oh, that sucks. _

You grab your bag and head to the back of the hall where the girls are waiting. There’s a brief discussion about stopping at Fuse before last call but you decide you’ve all probably had plenty to drink and instead opt to start the long trek back to the room. When you get there you all go about preparing for bed. You snag your sleepwear and break for the bathroom to steal the first spot. 

As you slip out of your dress and bra you survey the state of your body. You run your fingers over the first mark Misha had given you, the one hidden away from the world and then trace a line over to where you can see just a hint of the newer one under the concealer you had applied. Then you travel down to your hips and trace the finger shaped bruises that Misha had given you in the bar. You close your eyes and picture the welts that your fingernails had left on Misha’s muscular rear. You never knew you had a marking kink until now.

Feeling bold, either from the liquor or from the activities of the evening you aren’t sure, you slip on your Death to Normalcy shirt but you leave your pajama bottoms on the ground. You pull your phone out of your discarded dress pocket and slide up onto the counter. You keep yourself mostly covered but allow enough to show Misha that you still aren’t wearing underwear as you lean back and snap a picture. You check it and are satisfied that it came out the way you wanted it to before sending the picture off. 

You set your phone down as you wash your face and brush your teeth, regretting a little bit ridding your mouth of the taste of Misha. As you finish your phone buzzes with a new text message that has you smiling as you head to bed.

_ Little girl, you are going to be the death of me. _

You settle in as your roommates move about finishing up their nightly routines, feeling both satisfied and deeply unsatisfied at the same time. It takes no time at all for you to drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, your comments have been amazing. I love feedback. It always gives me a spurt of creative energy when I get them. I'm deep into the next chapter because of y'all. Keep it coming! <3


	5. Dangerous Ops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actions at one op lead to consequences at another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: We are going with the idea that Misha is in an open marriage.
> 
> Sorry about that! There was a formatting issue so all the italics were gone. Fixed now! I'll get the hang of this eventually.

Misha grins down at you, his eyes predatory, as he winds the blue tie around your wrists before knotting it around the post of the bed. You feel your whole body flush with color as he steps back to survey his work. His eyes drag across every inch of your naked flesh, spread out before him.  You tug at the restraint, instinctively wanting to cover yourself but the material holds strong and stops you. It should, that’s the exact reason why he tied you up in the first place, your insistence on not letting him look at you. 

Misha stands from his position kneeling on the bed. You take his appearance in, the snug dress pants and white button up shirt making him look more delicious than any one person should be allowed. You repress a giggle as you remember Misha asking you sheepishly if you wanted him to keep the trench coat, that was currently in a rumpled pile on the floor, on.

Misha shifts over to your legs. He lays his hands against your ankles and starts sliding them up slowly, pushing your legs apart as he kneels down. His hands come to a stop on the soft skin of your inner thighs and he starts to lean down as he licks his lips, his eyes fixed on your most intimate spot. He looks up at you just before he’s about to press his lips against your folds, and starts singing Carry On My Wayward Son.

_ Wait. What? _

Groaning, you roll over in bed and poke at Jenn so she’ll wake up and turn her alarm off. Scrubbing the sleep from your eyes, you look over at the clock. You realize you’ve slept later than you intended. It's eight o’clock and the Gold Panel starts in two hours. Evidently your body decided to ditch the internal alarm in favor of recouping after yesterday. Thinking back over it, you’re kind of amazed at how much has happened in just over twenty four hours. This time yesterday you were panicking over people thinking you were making out with Misha. Now all you could think of was getting your hands on his cock again.

You hear the sounds of your roommates stirring so you crawl out of bed and bolt for the bathroom, grabbing your phone and your toiletry bag on the way. At the grumbles of protest coming from your roommates you pop your head around the corner and stick your tongue out at them.

“Ya snooze ya lose.” Cackling you close the bathroom door and lock it. 

You turn the shower on and sit on the toilet, waking your phone from sleep mode. You feel fluttering in your belly as you see your text messages lit up. Opening it up you feel heat rise up your face as you read it.

_ Woke up thinking of you this morning. Enjoyable but frustrating. Thankfully a little time with my pictures of you helped me  _ relieve _ my frustration. Oh, do you want your underwear back? They are a little messy now. Sorry. _

You groan loudly before you realize it and slap your hand over your mouth. You hold your breath as you wait to see if anyone heard you. Not hearing anything from the room you contemplate how to get your revenge on Misha. Smirking you start typing.

_ Keep them. Speaking of which, what about today? _

You set the phone down, strip and get in the shower. You eye the showerhead, part of you wishing that it was a hand held shower head so you could get some relief, but the larger part knowing that you wouldn’t be the first to consider it, so you wouldn’t touch it even if it were. Remembering your roommates are out there waiting, you rush through your shower. 

Grabbing your towel you dry yourself off before stepping out of the shower. Checking your phone you see Misha had responded.

_ You lost me. _

Giggling you reply.

_ Panties or no panties? _

As you wait for his response you wipe down the mirror in front of you. Combing the knots out of your hair you take in your reflection. Your free hand drifts over your neck, brushing against the dark marks there, your body shivering in response. Curious, you let your towel drop and examine your hip. The bruises there had deepened overnight. Tracing them lightly you wonder what it would look like if Misha could get his hands on you without an audience to hide from.

Eyeing your phone you contemplate throwing your generally cautious nature out the window by sending Misha a photo of his handiwork. Just as you’re picking up your phone to do so you remember that Misha has a tendency to leave his phone unlocked and Jared has an equal tendency to get his hands on said phone. The idea that Jared might see the picture has you slamming back to reality. You set the phone down and snatch your hand back like it's a snake ready to strike.

You feel a flutter of panic in your belly as you think of the pictures Misha already has of you on his phone. You’re working yourself into a full blown attack when the sudden buzzing from your phone causes you to practically jump out of your skin. Reaching for it tentatively you open your inbox.

_ Well that’s a tough choice. On the one hand I’d love another pair to add to my collection. On the other, as tough as it's going to be to steal time today I’d like to have easy access. I still owe you an orgasm. I think I prefer no panties. _

Wanting to let Misha’s words get your mind back into a fun happy space you squeeze your eyes shut and try to picture your dream but the panic is still all too real. You send off a text.

_ Misha, please make sure you keep your phone locked today. _

Setting the phone down and noting the shake in your hands, you distract yourself by brushing your teeth. When the phone buzzes you pause long enough to read.

_ Okay, not the response I was expecting. May I ask what brought that up? _

Frustrated that you didn’t get a promise from him you go back to brushing your teeth to give yourself a second to calm down. The last thing you want is to scare him off by being a neurotic paranoid freak.

Picking up the phone when you’ve finished, you start tapping out a response, trying to ignore the tremor of your hand. You just can’t get the image of Jared finding the pictures of you and laughing at them or sharing them out of your head.

_ It’s just that you have pictures on your phone. Of me. And it occurred to me that Jared’s here today. Sometimes he gets ahold of your phone and _

You pause in your typing, trying to figure out how to say what you’re worried about. Failing to come up with anything you leave it unfinished and press send as is. You get another start when there is a sudden pounding on the door and you’re reminded others are waiting to use the bathroom. 

You grab your towel up and wrap yourself snuggly before grabbing the rest of your belongings. You arrange your hair so that the marks on your neck are covered before leaving the bathroom.

You slip your phone under your pillow to muffle the sound so you won’t be tempted to check it, that way you can focus on getting ready. You let the familiarity of your routine wash over you and calm your nerves as you dress, do your hair and put on your make up. 

You take a last look at the underwear you’ve got packed in your suitcase before leaving them all there as you close it.

You gather your bag that’s packed for today’s activities and settle onto the bed to wait for your friends. Hesitantly you slip your hand under the pillow and retrieve your phone to read your messages.

_ Jared’s a good guy, he may not seem like it but even he has his limits when it comes to just about anyone but me. But rest easy. Those are for my eyes only and they’re safely tucked away in a locked file. _

A few minutes later:

_ I have a surprise to tell you but I want to tell you in person, even if it’s only for a few moments. Can you leave a little bit before or after your friends and take the long way through the Cascades gardens under the waterfall? _

You survey the room and see none of the girls are even remotely ready to go. Checking the time, you see that it’s still about twenty minutes before you had planned to head out. Evidently the intense focus you put into your routine in order to avoid thinking was very efficient.

_ Yes, I’ll figure something out. Five minutes too soon? _

You stand and slowly slip your bag on your arm, trying to look casual as you wait for a response. 

_ Perfect. _

Clearing your throat you school your face into what you hope is a normal, appropriately happy for J2 Day face before speaking.

“Hey guys, I’m absolutely starving. I think I’m gonna head down now so I can grab something to eat before the panel. I don’t think I can stand another granola bar.” You end with what you hope is a convincing laugh. Luckily Fi is still in the bathroom since she’s likely the one that would question you the most.

“Really? Are you sure you want to go alone?” Jenn asks. 

You see a look pass between her and Amanda.

“Guys, I think I’m in the clear. I was out and about all day long yesterday and no one recognized me.” You focus on giving off a confident vibe, even if you’re still a little nervous about being out alone. You aren’t going to say anything of course but you know there are usually several people that only come on Sunday.

“Okay sweetie, we’ll see you down there. We’re gonna swing in to grab coffee and then we will be heading to the hall.” Amanda snags you as you go to walk by to give you a hug. 

“I’m proud of you. I don’t know what’s gotten into you but last year you didn’t even want to go anywhere alone  _ without _ difficult circumstances.” 

Wiggling out of her embrace with a laugh you head to the door.

“I’ll see you guys in a little bit.” 

You go out the door and and head for the elevator. As the doors open on the ground floor you feel a mixture of butterflies and a tightening in your belly. Pausing at the glass doors of the gardens you glance around to see if you can spot a familiar face but the foliage is too dense. There doesn’t seem to be much activity from what you can see though.

Taking a deep breath to calm the butterflies you open the door and walk through. The humidity is the first thing you notice, the next being how quiet it is. You can see people here and there on the upper levels but this lower level appears mostly deserted, at least at this end. You start making your way in the direction of the waterfall, feeling your heart in your throat.

Your steps falter as the walkway that goes beneath the fall comes into view and you see someone standing there. Someone that isn’t Misha. You’re about to turn and go the other way when it occurs to you that he looks familiar. Getting a little closer you realize who it is; It’s the person that drove you and Misha yesterday. 

Walking up to him you expect him to stop you or say something, or at the very least make eye contact but instead he is looking everywhere other than at you.

A couple feet past him and Misha comes into view. He’s leaning against the wall of the the enclosure with his phone in his hand, staring anxiously at it like it’s going to jump up and bite him at any second. You clear your throat as you get closer and he looks up, his furrowed brow relaxing and his mouth breaking into the warmest smile you’ve ever seen. 

As soon as you’re within arms reach and hidden behind the waterfall you’re pulled into a tight embrace. Laughing at his enthusiasm you throw a hand up to cover his mouth as he dives in for what you know would have been a toe curling kiss. He pulls back, his eyes clouded with disappointment and his lips pursed.

“Misha, you know I love kissing you,” you whisper to him “but note the same red lipstick as yesterday. Neither of us can afford being seen with the aftermath that kissing would bring right now.” 

You hold strong and manage to not giggle at the sight of a grown man pouting.

“You couldn’t have worn a different color, or better yet none at all?” Misha asks with a slight whine in his voice.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m trying my damndest not to get recognized and the makeup is part of the package.” you say, brushing the side of his face softly with the tips of your fingers to sooth him. “I didn’t really think of it this morning, this is the only one I brought but I guess I could ask one of the girls to borrow theirs. Only problem is I’d have to steal it for the day since you have a tendency to make me have to do repair jobs.”

“This is infuriating.” 

You can tell exactly how frustrated he is as his hands slip down to your hips to pull you in closer and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against you.

“Well, I didn’t say you couldn’t kiss me,” you pause briefly, “just not on the lips.” 

You tilt your head back to expose your neck to Misha who needs no more prompting. Giving off a low growl he drops his head and immediately begins trailing fiery kisses and licks from your ear down the length of your neck before reaching the fabric of your dress strap. He lets go of your hip with one hand and uses it to push the material away from the hidden mark.

As he kisses and sucks at the tender skin there he pauses, his mouth still against the deepening color, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you covered up the other mark. If I had more time right now I might just add to your punishment.” 

You both feel the shudder that wracks your body at the thought.

Misha sighs and lifts his head up, barely brushing his lips across yours in a feather light kiss. Not enough to transfer or smudge but enough to leave you wanting more. “I’m sure we’re already running out of time but that’s okay. I have some news, but I wanted to tell you in person because you’re a terrible liar when you are face to face with me and I want to make sure you’re okay with this.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure where Misha is going with all this but you wait patiently for him to spill. His eyes are dancing and you know it can’t be too bad if he’s that excited about it. Then again this  _ is _ Misha we’re talking about.

“Well, I made a call this morning when I woke up in the most uncomfortable state and didn’t have you there in person to help me with it. The good news is: I was able to switch my flight to tomorrow. I’m not filming this week so I really didn’t need to fly out so soon. The bad news is: I can’t get them to extend my room stay without them informing Creation.” He lets that barrage settle in before he continues with the biggest smile on his face and hope shining in his eyes. “So, I was wondering if you knew of anyone who might be able to put me up for the night.”

You have every intention of playing it cool and being all nonchalant about it but you lose all desire to play as you watch Misha bite down on his lip, a little self doubt slipping into his eyes as if a part of him expects you to say no after all that. Instead you stand on your tiptoes and whisper in his ear.

“Of course I want you in my room all night. I was promised that I would be screaming all sorts of dirty things if you were given enough time.” You trace the edge of Misha’s ear with the tip of your tongue and are fully prepared to make a meal of  _ his _ neck for once when you start to hear laughter getting nearer and a sharp whistle sounds.

Swearing under his breath Misha gently pushes you away from him as the driver starts walking under the falls towards the two of you. 

“I’m afraid that’s my cue,” and without another word the two of them head off in the opposite direction you had come in from as Misha slips his hat and sunglasses on and ducks his head. 

Hearing the voices coming closer and not wanting to make it look like you were walking with Misha you decided to lean up against the wall and hold your phone up, trying to make it look like you are completely engrossed in whatever is on the screen.

You breath a sigh of relief as a family with children goes walking by, paying you no heed. You take a minute to do a happy dance in your head to celebrate your impending evening with Misha, doing your best to ignore the nerves that are also spiking in regards to said evening. 

Then, taking a deep breath to ground yourself you begin the trek across the resort, hoping to make it to Starbucks before your friends do.

Thankfully you beat your friends there and the line is relatively short since the people without gold passes are mostly taking advantage of the late start. Grabbing food and caffeine you head to the main hall. You’re just about to head into the hall to take your seat and wait when something catches your eye.

You wander over to the table with photo ops that haven’t sold out. What caught your eye on the board was the Castiel Op with Misha. You know you really can’t afford it but your dream from this morning is playing through your mind and putting thoughts in your head about Misha in that costume of his. 

You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment when you think about the fact that you are fangirling over someone whose dick you had in your mouth less than twelve hours ago. Shaking the thought from your mind you pull your credit card out of your pocket and make your purchase before hurrying into the hall, slipping the ticket into your bag

You settle into your seat and turn to look toward the back just as the girls walk in. You smile and wave before turning back around to wait for the panel to start. It’s only a few minutes before the boys are introduced and Jared and Jensen take the stage to the usual dull roar. You feel a small knot form in your belly as you think back to Jensen during the concert. It will be far easier for him to see you now with all the lights up.

You sit in your seat, worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth for the first half of the panel but when there’s no repeat of last night you allow yourself to relax. Jensen doesn’t so much as look in your direction once and you decide you can chalk what you saw up to an overactive imagination running on booze and sexual frustration. As the panel finishes up you take out your phone to send off a text.

_ Thought I’d give you a heads up. My roommate and I have a J2M op. I’m sure you’ll be on your best behaviour. _

You can’t help but smile at your phone as you wait for a response while you finish your coffee. You’ve got nothing between now and the photo op at two, other than possibly grabbing lunch. You contemplate the free time you have and decide to send another text off.

_ The girls are going to be in and out this morning with their Jared and Jensen ops. I bet I could sneak away if you’re free and have any ideas. _

You’ve just hit send when your phone buzzes with an incoming text.

_ I don’t know how I feel about sharing you but I do enjoy that I get to have  _ my _ fangirl in a photo op with them. However I have  _ no _ idea what this best behaviour thing that you speak of is. _

By the time you’ve read and processed that text the next one has come in.

_ Meeting with Rich and Rob for brunch to talk about work stuff. Would much rather be licking orange juice and champagne off of your body instead of drinking it with the guys. _

Groaning you decide to return the torture that Misha lobbed at you but in a much more enjoyable way, for you at least. You do enjoy pushing his buttons.

_ Who says I’m going to be at the op for you? Jared and Jensen make tempting bookends, don’t you think? _

You hesitate over the send icon, not sure if this has the teasing tone you’re going for or if it is just mean. You make up your mind to delete it but before you have the chance you’re startled when a hand clamps down on your shoulder from behind, causing your thumb to hit send.

“Son of a bitch!” You look up at Fi who appears slightly startled at your outburst. 

She pulls her hand slowly away from your shoulder.

“Hey, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to let you know we’re heading to the bathroom before we head up for our ops. Are you,“ she pauses looking down at what you sure is a your very pale face. “Are you okay?”

Sighing, you nod, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just checking my bank account and it got a little scary.” You grin at her, knowing if you don’t make her think you’re good that you’ll likely not manage to lose your shadow. Even worse, she may decide not to leave until tomorrow morning and then you’d be really screwed. “I think I’m just gonna go over to one of the gardens and relax for a bit before I grab some lunch. I’ll meet you back here at quarter of two.”

You gather up your things and rush out of the hall, sending a half hearted wave to the others as you pass them, your mind on damage control. You rush across the hall and through the glass doors that opened to the outdoor courtyard. 

The chill in the air hits your bare skin but you barely feel it as you find a seat beside the deserted pool and pull up your text messages. No response from Misha yet. You hope that it's just because he’s already busy with his meeting and not because he’s mad at you. It’s really hard to judge what pushes someone buttons in a fun way and a bad way when you’ve only really  _ known _ them for a day.

You’re about to press send on a really long, rambling, somewhat pathetic apology text when a new one from Misha comes in.

_ Fair enough. Which friend is it? The pretty blonde? I wouldn’t mind holding her for another op. _

You smirk to yourself. You’re not sure if his response came from a place of hurt or a place of trying to get an equal rise from you but he chose the wrong path.

_ I don’t blame you, Fi is great to snuggle with. She’s a great kisser too after a few drinks. _

You wonder what witty response you’re going to get but are surprised at the speed that it came, and frankly its lack of wit.

_ Well shit. _

Laughing a little louder than you intended you glance up but you’re still alone.

_ Just getting to brunch. I’ll be out of contact for a bit. See you at the op. Think about it before you make any decisions little girl. Be smart, make a good choice and I’ll reward you. _

You feel yourself hit with a mix of emotions. First the ribbon of heat that slowly flows through your core when he uses what appears to be his nickname for you. Then the burn of defiance that blooms in your chest. Smart? Good? You find yourself stewing over these emotions for the rest of the morning and through lunch.

You’re heading back to the hall to meet Fi when you make your decision. You stop in the bathroom to check your makeup and hair and to make sure your cleavage is on point. Satisfied you head to the hall and meet up with Fi. The two of you head up to the mezzanine and get in line. 

You had originally been feeling a bit of regret at the fact that you and Fi had decided before the con that for this op you would get a squish from Jared and Jensen since she was getting a sandwich op and you weren’t. You would have liked an extra few seconds of Misha contact to hold you over. But now, with the defiance still sitting firmly in your mind, you couldn’t be happier that it would look weird if you told Fi you wanted to change it up. You  _ might _ explain it to Misha later, if you felt like it.

You get to the door and can see the three guys now. Feeling only a touch of anxiety this time you’re able to watch instead of focusing on not passing out. 

Misha spots you when you are about halfway through the line in the op room and quirks an eyebrow at you. You respond with a nonchalant shrug but can’t help but smile after, eye contact with him making the butterflies stir. His lips curl into a smile in response before he ducks his head. He turns back to the group and poses for the op.

You contemplate for the rest of the line whether or not you want to change your mind. You’re still debating when you hand your ticket over to be torn but when Misha finishes up with the people in front of you and then holds his hand out to you, a look of command in his eyes, the defiance flares back up. You square off your shoulders and proceed to breeze past Misha towards Jared and Jensen.

“Hey guys, it’s my turn for a squishy hug while my friend gets some Misha love.” 

You glance over at Misha and flash him a wink. His eyes betray nothing as he wraps his arms around Fi and you find yourself enveloped in an incredibly firm double hug, a small “oof” escaping your lips as the air is pushed from your lungs. You hear a chuckle that isn’t coming from either of the chests currently pressed against you and you know Misha heard you.

The flash goes off and you feel air rushing back into your lungs as you are released.

“Holy crap guys! A girl needs to breath!” you say laughing.

“I don’t know, I bet you’re pretty good at holding your breath.” You hear the smirk in Misha’s voice as it floats out from behind Jared’s frame. 

You peek around the back of Jared and see Misha looking at you over Fi’s head. When you are sure he is the only who can see you from this angle you lick your lips and wink at him.

Misha raises his eyebrow before speaking. “Hey guys, I think Fi here is sad she didn’t get a hug from you guys.” 

Jared turns and Jensen scoots around you as Misha shifts out of their way.

“Hey, I remember you, we already gave you a hug!” Jared laughs as he squeezes Fi.

“That’s fine, we’ve always got more hugs to give, c’mere sweetheart.” Jensen says as he reaches for Fi.

This is all fading into the background though as you’re focused on Misha, who’s using this time to stalk toward you. 

As he reaches out to grab your wrist you avoid it by lifting your hand to wave. “Thanks guys!” you yell a little too manically as you dance backwards out of Misha’s reach. 

Not a chance that you’re going to let him get his hands on you in front of all these people after that last exchange. Smirking at him, you back out of the room as you watch him pull out his phone. You round the corner and wait.

Fi practically skips through the door, squealing when she sees you. 

“He called me sweetheart!” 

She jumps into your arms just as your phone vibrates in your pocket. You return her hug before the two of you turn to walk back toward the stairs. You pull your phone out while you walk.

_ When do I get to see you again? _

Puzzled, having expected something a little more sinister than that you respond.

_ I’ve got an op with you and Jensen later. _

By the time you hit the bottom stair your phone is buzzing again. Misha’s gonna get himself in trouble if he keeps interrupting ops like this.

_ Wonderful, I’ve just come up with the  _ best _ punishment for that little game you played. _

Just like that, the cockiness that you were feeling over winning a round with Misha sails away and the odd combination of dread and arousal forms a pit in your belly. You and Fi get back to the hall just as Tim’s starting his panel. You sneak into your seat and settle in, doing your best to shove down the constant cycle of thoughts trying to figure out what Misha has planned.

Tim finishes up his panel and if push came to shove you likely couldn’t repeat a single thing he said. The music fan videos start and you’re too busy picturing Misha stripping you naked in front of everyone at the op to enjoy it. Next up is the J2 panel.

You take a deep breath but all you can picture is Jensen standing there with a look of horror as Misha flips your skirt over your head and fingers you to orgasm after orgasm. 

You practically fly out of your seat the second the panel is over. You make it to the bathroom ahead of the crowds and get a wad of paper towels wet and rub them across the back of your neck. 

You know you have to stop panicking. In all likelihood Misha doesn’t even have anything planned and just said that as payback. He had to know it would have you twisted up all afternoon.

When you step out of the bathroom you spot the girls waiting by the registration table, searching the crowds for you. You head over, doing your best to mask your current mental state.

“Hey guys, what's up?” You pray that your voice is just the right amount of cheerful and not the over the top level that you feel it is.

“We’re gonna run back to the room and start loading up our cars before Mark’s panel starts. Did you want to come with?” Amanda asks. You’re relieved to see that the note of concern that has tinged her voice since yesterday morning has gone.

“Naw, I think I’ll just hang around out here for a bit. Maybe head over to Stax for a burger.” You have no intention of doing so, doubting you could keep anything down at the moment. You figure though, that if they think you’re going to eat without prompting then you’re doing well.

“Okay, we’ll be back in a bit.” Jenn squeezes your shoulder before they all head off to the room. As soon as they have become lost in the crowd you bolt for the quiet of the pool courtyard and pull out your phone and start tapping furiously.

_ Misha, I’m really sorry. Look, the girls are all busy for the next hour. Let me make it up to you, please? _

You start pacing up along the edge of the pool, trying to keep your breathing even and calm. The last thing you need is to hyperventilate and pass out into the pool. Have fun at the hospital explaining your lack of panties. When the phone in your hand buzzes you freeze in place and just stare at it for a moment before you walk over to sit down on a pool chair and open the text.

_ Sorry sweetie, way too many people around and my handler isn’t letting me out of her sight. Besides, there’s no way you are getting out of your punishment, even if I did have time for you to apologize properly. _

So, nothing to be done now. You settle back in the chair, ignoring the chill of the air and pull out your headphones. You plug them in and start a playlist running hoping the music will calm your nerves. You know from past experience that odds are, in the moment, whatever Misha does to you is going to light you on fire, even if it does make you want to be swallowed up by the floor at the same time.

When the time on your phone reads five o’clock you head back into the building to wait for your number group to be called. When it flashes on the monitor you feel the pit in your stomach grow to the size of a watermelon. You fish out the ticket for the op and head out of the hall and up the stairs to take your place in line.

For the first time all day the line moves impossibly slow. The people in line around you try to make small talk with you but lose interest when your only responses are one word answers and gestures with your head. 

By the time you reach the door and lay eyes on Misha and Jensen you can’t even be bothered to school your expression. You’re pretty sure what’s there could be compared to absolute, naked terror.

You move up woodenly as the line goes. You’re a few paces into the door when Misha first notices you. His face lights up with a smile but when he takes in your expression, it slips into a smirk. He shrugs at you and then goes back to paying attention to the person getting their picture taken. You don’t take your eyes off of Misha the entire time.

It feels like an eternity has passed but eventually you’re next in line. You hand over your ticket and take the ripped end back. You nod at them when they tell you that you’re next. Misha looks over at you as the person in front of you finishes up. Your feet start to move but then you see Misha look at Chris and call his name. 

Chris looks up and you see Misha wink at him. Your mind goes into full blown panic mode and refuses to budge. Whatever Misha is planning it somehow involves Chris and that cannot be good.

When Misha sees you aren’t moving he laughs and walks over to you. He puts his arm around your shoulders and starts to pull you along.

“Here you go sweetie,” he whispers in your ear as he maneuvers you. “I thought since you enjoyed it so much last time that you’d like to get another hug from Jensen and I’ll just hang out behind you.” You look at him in confusion as he maneuvers you into Jensen’s waiting arms. He wraps them around you snugly slow dance style, but not nearly so tight as before. You feel one of Misha’s hand rest on your shoulder that is towards the camera but you don’t feel the other. Looking down at the side facing the backdrop you see his other hand resting on Jensen’s elbow. You turn to look at Chris, hoping to get the picture over with. Those hopes are dashed when Chris starts talking.

“Hey guys, one sec. I’m just having an issue with a setting on my camera. Just hold your pose.” 

Chris looks down at his camera. You’re still trying to figure out what Misha’s plan is when you feel Jensen’s hold on you loosen up just a little bit. Misha shifts slightly behind you and looking over your shoulder at him to try and figure out what’s happening you realize it isn’t his face you should have been watching. 

You feel Misha’s hand, not visible to the rest of the crowd, sliding between your’s and Jensen’s arms. It travels along the bottom of your ribcage before sliding up. When he reaches your breast your eyes fly up to Jensen’s face. He can’t be missing this, there isn’t enough room for Misha’s hand to be where it is without Jensen knowing it.

When your eyes meet his you feel like the floor has just dropped out from under you. He’s laughing! Well, not laughing exactly. But his eyes are dancing with mirth and the corners of his mouth are turned up. He knows!  _ Jensen knows! _ You feel the familiar spread of warmth and know you’re turning pink from cleavage to forehead.

You’re about to say something when Misha’s wandering hand finds your nipple through the fabric of your dress and bra. Knowing you are surrounded by people that have no idea what Misha is doing to you, you fight hard to keep your expression neutral. You aren’t sure what exactly Misha’s goal here is but if it's to get you to break in front of a bunch of people, you aren’t going to give him that satisfaction.

Misha is gentle with his touches, circling your nipple, just barely hard enough for you to feel it through the material. You can feel it starting to harden slowly as he increases pressure. You keep stealing glances at Chris, hoping to see him finishing whatever he’s pretending to do but he seems entirely focused. You want to say something but all that comes out is a rather loud gasp as Misha’s fingers close around your nipple and and begin to pinch.

You feel Jensen’s shoulders shaking under your hands and you realize he’s laughing. You aren’t sure why but this helps you find your voice. 

Looking at Jensen, you raise your eyebrow and say, “So you’re in on this too huh?”

Jensen looks down and you with a smile and a shrug before leaning in a little to whisper, his chest pressing Misha’s hand into you, “Hey when my buddy needs an assist with punishing his little girl, who am I to refuse?” 

The shaking in his shoulders increases and you hear a low chuckle come from behind you.

Their laughter lights a fire of defiance in your belly. You’ve been twisting yourself up trying to keep this from your friends and here he is sharing with his. What else has he shared. You know he said he wouldn’t share those pictures, but do you believe him? Your face is set as you shoot a glare up at Jensen before looking over your shoulder at Misha to speak.

“You know what,  _ old man _ ? Do your worst. I won’t break.” You turn back to stare at a fixed location just below Jensen’s throat, catching a glimpse of Misha’s eye flashing darkly before you look away.

Misha leans in, his now obvious erection pressing into your backside, and whispers, “Challenge accepted. Just remember,  _ you _ pushed.” His voice is dangerously low and his breath drifts across your ear but you force down the shiver that tries to shoot through your body.

“Yeah, right. Just have fun finishing up your photo ops with that raging hard-on of yours.” You refuse to look away from the point on Jensen that you’ve been staring at but you feel the corners of your lips curl up when Jensen bursts out laughing.

“I think she won that point, Mish.” he says. 

Misha practically purrs in your ear, “I’m sure Jensen would be fine if I took a break to drag you off to take care of my raging hard-on. But I’ve got a better idea. First things first.” Misha nuzzles against your ear, blocked from the view of everyone but Jensen by your heads. “What’s your safeword?”

A mixture of fear and desire slams into you and has your head spinning. You manage a strangled “Kale”. You feel Misha nod, his cheek brushing against your hair.

Misha withdraws the hand that has up till now been pinching and rolling your nipple between its fingers. You feel Misha’s grip on your shoulder tighten and his body molds to your back and side. You feel Jensen’s hand that is wrapped around your waist slide up and you look down to see Misha nudging it with his free hand.

You feel a buzzing start in the back of your mind as you slowly put two and two together. You start forcing yourself to take deep, slow breaths as Misha’s hand starts to slide from your hip across your waist. You are practically burning a hole in Jensen’s chest with how hard you are staring. 

You hear a soft “Jensen” from behind you and feel Misha gesturing with his head. Jensen’s hand that’s on the side facing the camera leaves your waist and moves to under your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his. 

“Right here, sweetheart.” 

You glare at him and are about to speak when the words catch in your throat as Misha’s hands slip below your waist and press the fabric of your dress against your slit.

“No underwear, right little girl?” Misha says as he begins rubbing his hand up and down, keeping the motion small enough to not be noticed but still effective. The friction from the fabric of the dress against your bare skin combined with the pressure of Misha’s fingers has the heat quickly building in your belly. You can feel the moisture pooling at your center and it won’t be long til whatever isn’t absorbed by the fabric is dripping down your leg.

Your voice is strangled as you speak, “How’s it going over their Chris? My arms are going numb.” 

You don’t take your eyes off of Jensen’s as you speak but you hear Chris’s disembodied voice respond.

“Just another second.” 

You wonder what Misha told him and you feel a fresh wave of embarrassment at the thought that Chris is also aware of what you’ve been up to. This feeling is blasted out of you though and your thoughts are on nothing but sensation as Misha applies extra pressure with his middle finger and forces the fabric between your folds as he starts rubbing directly on your clit. Your fingers dig into Jensen’s biceps and your head drops down to rest on his chest as you feel the strength in your legs slowly ebbing. 

Just when you feel the coil in your belly is about to snap the pressure of Misha’s fingers is suddenly gone. His fingers brush the side of your face that is away from the camera before they push gently. You figure out that he is indicating that you should look toward the camera and do so. Misha slides his hand down to your shoulder and rests his head against the back of yours. You see that Chris is bringing his camera up and you feel the guys close in on you. You smile for the camera and the flash goes off.

Jensen hugs you and whispers in your ear, “Enjoy your night.” before releasing you. 

You start to try and walk away but instead of releasing you like you expect Misha spins you around and comes in for a hug.

“I’d say I made my point, little girl. I’ve got no problem with you wanting to hug other guys. In fact I’m happy to facilitate.” 

There’s something about the look in your eyes that burns off the fog of desire that’s currently making you hazy. A look of victory. Its an odd combination of emotion. 

On the one hand your body and at least part of your mind want to do anything and everything to please this man. It’s the part that enjoys when he takes control, when he marks you, when he teases your body into submission. 

Then there’s the part of you that can’t stand to let a challenge from this man go unanswered. Had this all gone down in the privacy of your room, you’re quite sure you would have let it go. But here, with him all cocky from what he felt was a win? Well, it has you running your mouth again.

“Hey Misha, I picked up a Castiel op earlier so I’ll see you then. You...you go method for that, right?” you pause to let what you’re saying register. “Should be fun.” 

You wink at Misha as you pull away before turning to walk toward the door. You hear Jensen break into a full body laugh and know that Misha is probably standing there slightly stunned. You break into a smile and add an extra sway to your hips as you leave the room, feeling much better, if not a little frustrated.

You don’t even want to think about how many times Misha has had you on the edge of an orgasm in some way or another without you finding relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter. Please leave feedback, it really helps my writing!


	6. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When unforeseen consequences rear their ugly head and Misha can't be there to help what, or who, is the answer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, gentle reminder that Misha is in an open relationship.
> 
> Second  
> Phew, this chapter kinda got away from me. It was tough to write and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. I know its not anything that was expected but I felt like it was something to be addressed but I never expected it to be more than a small blurb. I hope you guys still enjoy it and stick with me. I Promise we will get back to the fun stuff.

Your entire body is buzzing with endorphins as you walk down the stairs. You can hear the muffled cheers coming from the the hall and you know Mark’s panel has started. As you weave through the people from the latests number group heading for their ops you take mental note that something inside of you isn’t feeling quite right. Questions and doubts start circling your mind like sharks. You look at every face as they pass and you swear they’re all looking at you suddenly. _Did Misha tell them all? Are they all in on it. Why is that volunteer looking at me like that?_

You feel the bubble of panic forming in your chest and know it's only a matter of time before it bursts and you have to do something. You pull out your phone as you’re bolting for doors to the pool courtyard. With shaking fingers you pull up Misha’s text box. You want to send him a message but when you see the last few texts where Misha was talking about punishing you, all you can think is that part of your punishment was him telling everyone how you begged him to let you suck his cock on the floor of a bathroom.

You feel your face flush as shame hits you. You squeeze your eyes shut as you try and breathe. You know, intellectually, what’s happening and that it’s not real but you can’t quite make your body believe. You give up on trying to type with fingers, which are going numb, and instead hit the call button. As the phone rings you stumble your way over to the shrubs that surround the pool and sit on the cold concrete in front of them, needing to hide yourself from the people inside.

You’re about to give up when you finally hear the phone connect. Misha’s voice is quiet and husky.

“Calling to thank me properly or to taunt me? Because one gets you a nice reward.” Misha chuckles when he finishes. You can hear a lot of talking in the background and can tell Misha is trying to be quiet.

Your voice is strangled and panicky but you manage to speak.

“Misha, who else?”

Misha pauses before asking, “What do you mean? Are you okay?”

You can hear the concern tinging his voice put you push it away.

“Who else knows? Everyone’s looking at me Misha, do they all know? Did you tell them what I did at your panel? How pathetic I sounded when I begged to blow you?”

You could hear the hysteria in your speech but couldn’t stop the flow.

“Woah, woah, Sweetheart. Please, take a deep breath.”

“I don’t need to breathe, I need to know-” you aren’t able to finish as Misha’s voice booms through the phone.

“I said take a deep breath. Do what you’re told and do it now.”

The steel in Misha’s voice is enough to drown out the other voices in your head long enough for you to follow his instructions.

“Again. Count. In four, out four.” You keep breathing.

You hear Misha swearing quietly before Jensen’s voice filters in.

“ _Mish, what's up man?_ ”

You hear shuffling as Jensen grows louder the closer he gets to Misha.

“She’s dropping. I didn’t-” Misha pauses and you can practically see him running his hand through his hair in frustration. “I didn't think about the fact that everything would add up. Baby girl, I'm so sorry.”

“Little,” you whisper.

“What?” you can hear someone calling Misha’s name over the music in the background.

“ _Little_ girl, not baby. That isn't what you call me.”

“That’s right, little girl. Where are you? I'm going to come find you, okay?”

You swallow hard, feeling like you’re choking on the guilt that you caused the concern in Misha’s voice, that beautiful light happy voice was gone and it was all your fault.

“Jensen, I've got to go.”

“ _Mish-_ ”

You don't hear whatever Jensen says as the phone becomes muffled. Only seconds pass but it feels like an eternity until Misha’s voice comes back on the line.

“Still with me, Sweetie?”

“Misha I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. Please, just forget I called. Just forget me.”

You can feel the sob that’s threatening to erupt from your chest.

“Tell me where you are right now.” Misha’s voice is low and dangerous and leaves no room for argument.

“Magnolia pool” you whisper into the phone. The sound becomes muffled before Misha is talking again.

“Sweetie I can't get away right now. I have to do my photo op with Jared. But listen, Jensen’s on his way. When he gets there you’re going to let him help you. You’re going to listen to him and do anything he says just like if it were me telling you. Do you understand?”

You want to argue. You want to hang up and run away before Jensen gets there. Instead, the part of you that desperately needs Misha’s control right now wins and you manage to whisper a small “Yes” before disconnecting with Misha.

You lay down on your side and pull your knees up to your chest. It's a strange feeling. You _know_ the concrete is chilly but the sheen of sweat you can feel on your forehead is conflicting with that.

Not much time passes before you hear a door off to the other side of the pool open. You don't hear the raised voices that you would expect from Jensen’s presence filtering out so at first you feel panic rise when you think someone else is coming.

In a moment of clarity it occurs to you that the sound of the door didn't come from where you’d exited the building and it's likely Jensen went through the service area to avoid being seen.

As you hear footsteps coming toward you, you tighten in on yourself and squeeze your eyes shut. It’s not ‘til you feel a warm hand gently brush your shoulder that you realize you’re holding your breath and you let it go in a small puff.

Slowly opening your eyes you see Jensen kneeling beside you.

“There she is.” he says softly, smiling down at you. “Let’s get you up off this cold ground, sweetheart.”

First he helps you slowly sit up before pulling you to a standing position, keeping his hands on your arms to steady you. He frowns slightly when he feels the temperature of your bare skin. He slips his flannel off and wraps it around your shoulders then he reaches up and brushes the stray hair that is sticking to your forehead away, wiping the layer of sweat away with it. Leaning down he picks up a bottle that he must have set down when he first got here.

“Here, have some of this. It’ll help.”

You hesitantly take the bottle and take a sip. As the cold juice slides down your throat you can feel your internal temperature slowly start to dip. Jensen pulls something in a crinkly wrapper out of his pocket before steering you over to a pool lounge and gently pushing you down to sit on its side. He opens the wrapper and breaks off a piece of a granola bar.

“You’re doing great,” he says soothingly as you take another sip. He hands you the piece of the granola he had broken off. “Eat this.” When you frown at it and don’t take it right away Jensen frowns at you. “I didn’t want to do this but I’m only going to remind you once what Misha said. Please do as you're told.”

He doesn’t have the same tone of authority as Misha but invoking his name did the trick and you begrudgingly take the food and pop it into your mouth, chewing it slowly.

“Do you think you’re ready to talk yet? I think you need a little more information. Sounds like you’ve got some mistaken ideas of what’s being shared and with who.”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out so you shake your head, dropping your gaze to the ground.

“Okay then, when you find that brilliant voice of yours again we’ll talk. Until then,” Jensen steps one leg over the lounge between you and the back of the seat. He settles back against it before pulling you toward him. You settle your head against his chest and curl the rest of your body up tightly between his legs. He pulls his flannel tighter around you and then rests his arms across your shoulder and for the first time you let the tears slip from your eyes. Somewhere in the fog that is your mind right now you manage to give a silent thanks for waterproof eyeliner and mascara.

For five minutes you lay there and just let the small sobs shake through your body. Slowly they subside and you start to feel a little better. You go to sit up but Jensen’s arms tighten just enough to indicate you shouldn’t move and you settle back in.

“Just breath with me for a few minutes.”

Another five minutes has you just laying there letting yourself become grounded again. Once in awhile Jensen makes soothing noises as he brushes a hand over your hair but he mostly just holds you as you come down, breathing in when he does, breathing out.

You sit up and this time Jensen doesn’t stop you. Sniffling, you turn to face Jensen. He hands you the rest of the granola bar which you dutifully start nibbling away at. He reaches into his other pocket and produces a small package of kleenex. You manage a weak snort.

“What, were you a Boy Scout or something?” Jensen shrugs, looking surprisingly bashful.

“Misha got it from one of the volunteers. He figured you might need it.” You take the package and remove a tissue, doing your best to clean up your eyes and nose, knowing you’ll have to face your friends soon. Jensen sits up and puts his hands on your sides to shift you so that you sit facing him, your legs folded in front of you on the chair between his.

“I’m glad you’ve got your voice back. I think that wonderful snark might be what Misha likes most about you.”

This reminds you of what first sent you spiraling, the fact that people had been talking about you, and you feel yourself begin to retreat back inside. Jensen sees the change in your eyes and swears.

“I’m sorry, I’m a poor man’s Misha. Not great with the words like him. Please, let’s just talk. Tell me what brought this on, besides the obvious.”

“I...I don’t really know. I mean I do. I thought I was okay but when I started thinking about the fact that Misha is telling all these people what I did..” you hang your head, your face flushing with shame all over again as you trail off.

Jensen puts a hand gently under your chin, forcing your face up much like he had during the op earlier.

“You know what sub drop is sweetheart?”

You squint at him incredulously “Yes, but that isn’t this. I mean we’ve just met and we’ve barely done anything and nothing like an intense scene.”

You shake your head emphatically. This couldn’t even remotely be that.

“Think about it. You _have_ just met, which makes it less comfortable. Not to mention, and yes I’m going to admit I know way more than I should, but Misha’s had you on the edge for more than twenty four hours. I mean, I’m making an assumption right now but I’m betting you haven’t resorted to self help on that?”

Blushing, you shake your head and look down at the granola bar that is turning to crumbs in your lap. Oddly though, you aren’t nearly so embarrassed as you think you should be.

“So, you think Misha told a bunch of people?” Jensen asks, making certain you were making eye contact before continuing. When you nod but don’t look away he goes on. “Well first thing, Misha really wants to be here. The only reason he isn’t is because I reminded him that skipping out on a photo op would only draw attention to you. It’s killing him to not be able to take care of you right now.”

“Really?” You’re surprised by the insistence in Jensen’s voice.

Nodding he continues on.

“As far as who he’s told there are only two people.” Jensen lifts one of your hands out of your lap to envelop in his own.

“You and Chris?” you ask, not yet daring to ask for more details like how much they’d heard, or worse, seen.

“What? No. Misha just told Chris that you were a big Ackles fan and he wanted to give you a treat by leaving you in my arms for as long as possible.”

Jensen grins at that, clearly enjoying Misha’s ruse.

“Then who else?” you ask softly, turning over in your head who it could be.

“Vicki.” Your eyes go wide and your mouth forms a silent “Oh”. It had never even occurred to you, although it should have. “He called her as soon as he got back to his hotel room after your jog, although I don’t think she’s been getting details like I have.”

You take a deep breath and ask what you’ve been avoiding, “And you? What have you heard and...seen?”

“He called me right after Vicki. I think he just needed to rant to someone and didn’t want to worry Vicki. He was mostly frustrated that he was accused of something he’d wanted to do but didn’t, restraint that he normally doesn’t implement.”

You both share a laugh at this and you feel your defenses slowly coming down, although you’re still anxious about what Jensen has to say.

“Later he texted me while I was on the plane over, something about having a very arousing photo op session. I got it when I landed and called him while Jared was in the bathroom. He filled me in and then bragged like a ten year old about this stunning, his word, picture that he had on his phone that he wasn’t going to show me. And he hasn’t, just so you know. He told me you were worried about that so you need to know he meant it when he said they were for his eyes only. He won’t even show them to Vicki unless you tell him it’s okay.”

You feel the tightening in your chest release a little bit as you process the information.

“When I got to the hotel I called him up to see how it was going and he told me about the panel. I gotta tell you, I was pretty impressed. Not many people can go toe to toe with Misha like that and come out with the win.”

Your heart lifted at the compliment but you didn’t interrupt.

“He was in the green room when I got in before the concert. I could tell he was a little upset and when I bugged him about it he started rambling about how he had totally destroyed what little trust he had built with you in the short time you knew each other and that he was never going to hear from you again. It was right after that when he got a text and, I swear it was like the sun breaking through after a really awful thunderstorm. He was so happy to hear from you. He ran out of there like he had hell hounds on his tail.”

Jensen looks so proud of his reference you can’t help but laugh. Hearing that, you see some of the tension melt from his face. You hadn’t realized until now that Jensen might be feeling guilty about his part in all of this. You smile warmly at him and he continues.

“It wasn’t hard to tell from his face when he walked in that he’d gotten some action.” It’s Jensen’s turn to blush when he realizes he could have put that more tactfully but when he sees you aren’t bothered by it he goes on. “I made him run through the bare bones of it right before I went on. He mentioned where you were sitting because he wanted to make sure you made it back alright. I probably should have been a little more subtle but when your buddy tells you he just got one of the best blow jobs of his life it makes a guy make poor decisions.”

“Bullshit. It was sloppy and rushed and I’m not really very good at it on the best of days.”

Jensen raises an eyebrow at your exclamation, a smirk on his lips as he speaks.

“Sweetheart, if a man like Misha says you give good head, you give good head. He would know.”

Giggling, you say “Yeah, I called him a slut too.”

With that the two of you break into hysterical laughter, taking turns shushing each other to avoid drawing attention from anyone inside. When you’ve managed to calm down, Jensen continues as you marvel at the fact that you are so casually discussing your cock sucking skills with Jensen Ackles.

“This morning he let me know he wasn’t going to be flying back with us tonight. He was so happy about having you to himself for the whole night without any possibility for interruption. He kept me filled in the rest of the day and I was pretty happy to help with his little punishment. You’ve gotta believe me though when I say neither of us considered this as an outcome, even though we should’ve. He made sure I knew your safeword and he figured at worst you would use it. I don’t think he was counting on you being as stubborn as him.”

Jensen shakes his head as if he is amazed by the possibility.

“So that brings us to here and now.” Jensen picks up the juice from where you’ve left it on the ground and hands it back, indicating you should drink some more. When you do he starts talking again but now he is shifting uncomfortably in the seat. “There’s something else you should know. Misha didn’t tell me to tell you this. In fact he’s probably going to be pissed that I did.”

Jensen hesitates and for a minute you wonder if he’s changed his mind about telling you. He takes a deep breath as if he needs to get it all out in one go or he won’t be able to finish.

“This is a first for Misha.” You can’t help the look of shock and disbelief that takes over your face.

“ _What_ is a first for Misha?” Frankly you can’t imagine that there isn’t anything Misha hasn’t tried at least once, let alone any of the somewhat vanilla, all things considered, activities of the past two days.

“This.” Jensen waves his hands around to indicate the location. “You. Misha doesn’t get involved with fans, at least not in this way.” Your head shakes of its own volition, refusing to believe him. “I know what people say about him online. We’ve all heard the rumors. I think there was even one going around at one point that he’d gotten a fan pregnant. They aren’t true though. Early on Misha did meet a fan that he was interested in. They spent a little time flirting with each other but when Misha made plans to get coffee with her he found out she tweeted all about it. It was pretty clear that her interest was more about the attention she’d get so he cut off all ties with her immediately.”

That squeeze that you had felt that first time in the meet and greet room returned and you understood the hesitation and pain you had seen in Misha’s eyes. The question of why me is rolling around in your head but you shove it down, certain Jensen won’t have that answer for you.

Both of you are startled when a buzzing sound emanates from Jensen’s behind. He makes a woohoo - face before smiling at you and shooting you a wink. He pulls his phone out and reads his texts. Grimacing at his phone he looks up at you and gives you an apologetic look.

“It’s Clif. Misha and Jared are finishing up. That means I gotta get back because autographs will be starting soon.” Jensen fingers the lanyard hanging around your neck. “I guess I’ll see you there.” He grins at you before holding his hand out to help you stand, ever the gentleman. When you’re both standing, face to face Jensen reaches out to brush his thumb against your cheek.

“How are you doing?” he asks softly.

“Better. Thank you. I’m still a little shaky but I think I’m going to be okay. At least I will be once I finally get Misha alone.” You grin sheepishly.

“I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing right now. Why don’t you give him a call, just to let him know you’re doing okay. I know he’s got to get ready for his Castiel op after this one but I’m sure he would sneak away just to see that you’re okay with his own eyes. I thought I was going to have to pull a Dean and knock him out to keep him from blowing your cover.”

Smiling to yourself at the tug in your belly that you feel hearing about Misha’s protectiveness you pick up your phone from where you’d left it on the ground. You feel a familiar sink in your stomach when you see you’ve got multiple missed text messages. You open one from Fi.

_Hey, how’d the op go? Are they running long? You’re missing a great Mark panel._

The next one is from Jenn and it came in about five minutes ago.

_Where are you? Mark’s panel is almost over. Fi is worried and so am I._

“Shit.” You run your hand through your hair to smooth it as you grab your forgotten bag to find your mirror and assess the damage.

“What’s up? Did Misha lose it and bolt from the ops?” Jensen asks with a grin.

“No, my friends. They’re threatening to come looking for me. I’m not going to be able to go see Misha, they’re expecting me there for autographs.”

Frowning you text Jenn back, letting her know that you had just run to get something to eat and you’d be right there. Then you pull up Misha’s texts and tap the call button.

Misha answers after a couple of rings. His voice is strained and full of fake happy

“Hey! How’s it going?”

Smiling softly when you realize that the flip flop in your belly that you get when you hear Misha’s voice is back, you relieve his fears as best you can over the phone.

“I’m doing good, Misha. You’ve got a really great friend even if he _does_ let you talk him into your little schemes.” you giggle when you see Jensen waggle his eyebrows at you.

“That’s great! I’m so happy to hear that! Any chance our mutual friend is available for confirmation?”

You shake your head but can’t really blame Misha. Things are a bit fuzzy but you can imagine you gave him quite the scare. You hand the phone over to Jensen who takes it nodding and smiling at you.

While Jensen is reassuring Misha, you go back to checking your make up. Your lipstick has mostly worn away at the worrying your teeth have been doing to your lips but it doesn’t look out of place for the end of the day. Your eye makeup is also still miraculously intact.

Jensen ends the call and saunters back over to you.

“I told him that you wouldn’t be able to see him before his next photo session. He was disappointed but after a little bit of reassurance I think you’re safe from having him come barging in to autographs to drag you away.”

He hands your phone back before dragging you into a tight hug. He holds you for a few seconds as you rest your head on his chest before he plants a soft kiss on the top of your head and pulls away.

“Misha really is a good guy and he has great taste in people so I think it’s safe to assume you’re a great girl too. Let him take care of you tonight. I promise you won’t regret it.” Jensen takes a step back and slips his hands into his pockets.

“By the way. If you ever get it in your head you’d like someone to join you two for more than a quick little punishment in front of a camera tell Dmitri to let me know.”

It’s a few seconds before you realize your mouth is hanging open. You snap it shut before responding.

“Wait, what about Danneel?” You're pretty sure you look ridiculous with your eyebrows hiked up to your hairline but you can’t seem to shake the stunned expression.

“What, you think Misha and Vicki are the only couple in Hollywood that allows a little play in their marriage?”

Jensen grins before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. Then he turns and heads back to the door he must have come out of. You watch until he’s out of sight before taking a deep breath and heading back up to the doors that lead into the lobby which is currently filled with people.

Surprisingly, with all those people milling about it takes you no time to spot your friends who are currently huddled together talking animatedly. It’s not hard to figure out that the topic of conversation is you. Bracing yourself you push through the doors and head over.

“There you are!” Jenn exclaims as she spots you threading through the crowds. “We were just about to send a search party.”

Laughing you let yourself be pulled into the circle of women.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Have you been crying?” The look of concern in Amanda’s eyes has you swearing internally.

Your makeup may be fixed but your eyes are probably red and puffy. Kicking yourself for not considering this you throw out what you hope will be your last lie of the weekend.

“Ha, no. I just had wings for dinner and they were a little spicier than I was anticipating but so good that I just couldn’t stop.” Putting on your best ‘relaxed’ smile you try to remember to breathe as you wait for their response.

Everything could fall apart now if they don’t believe you and someone decides to stay the night with you.

“Damn it, you didn’t bring any back? Jerk!” Jenn gives a playful shove to your shoulder. “C’mon. They’re gonna start Jared’s autos soon. They’re actually running on time for once. I heard someone talking about how Misha was oddly on task during the Mishalecki op, no shenanigans.”

You do your best to shove down the guilt and resolve to text Misha as soon as possible. You all start moving back to the hall but as you go Fi rests her hand on your arm to encourage you to hang back a bit. You continue walking as she talks quietly beside you. You notice she’s carrying something in her hands.

“Hey, they put the ops out. I grabbed our op, “ She hands you the J2M op, which looks as you expected, before continuing, “I saw your Cockles op and thought maybe you’d rather I grab it before too many people saw it.”

You feel your stomach trying to decide if it wants to fill with butterflies or stones when you take the picture from Fi’s hand. You thought you’d managed to pose for a benign op but you realize now how wrong you are. Jensen looks fairly normal, even if he looks like he is having a hard time suppressing a laugh.

Your eyes travel from there and they pass over your hand on Jensen’s arm, your fingertips digging into the fabric of his shirt. Moving over to your face, you can feel the familiar heat of embarrassment creep up your neck to your face. You’ve got a smile plastered on your lips but the rest of your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you’d just been thoroughly fucked.

Your cheeks and neck are flushed, your eyes are glossed over and there’s the shine of sweat across your forehead. Then your eyes move to Misha and the heat that has been gathering in your chest and face plummets to your core. The jovial expression Misha usually sports is nowhere to be seen. Instead his normally bright blue eyes are dark and predatory. There’s a curl of victory to his smile. His hands, good lord his hands. You hadn’t even noticed that they had fisted themselves into the material of your skirt, a possessive move that indicates you’re trapped to him.

Your mouth suddenly feels incredibly dry and your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds but you force yourself to look up to meet Fi’s eyes. You expect to be met with accusation and hurt but her eyes are soft and concerned.

“I was talking to the volunteer when he was putting them out. I grabbed it before anyone really had a chance to see it. I’m not gonna press right now, but I hope you’ll talk to me eventually.” She pauses briefly and her eyes go hard. “Just know if I find out he did something to hurt you and is the reason you’ve been crying I’ll kill him. Don’t even try and give me the line about the wings again.”

You give her a soft, reassuring smile as you slip an arm around her waist. You rest your head on her shoulder as you walk and speak. “I’ll never understand how I ended up with such amazing friends.”

When you get into the hall you see that they’ve just called row A for Jared autographs. You all hang back in the mostly empty general seating section while you wait.

You can’t seem to push down the feeling in your gut that Misha is still struggling after hearing about his last photo session. You know you aren’t going to get away but you also know that Misha won’t be very reassured that you’re really okay if you just text him. You pull out your phone and tell the girls you are just calling to check in with home. You listen to the phone ring and you feel your breath catch when you hear Misha’s voice on the other end.

“Hello beautiful. How are you doing?” He sounds happy but you can also hear the concern and strain in his voice and it makes you ache once again, knowing you caused it.

“I’m doing great. The girls and I are just sitting here waiting to get our autographs, how about you?” You hope that the false cheer in your voice and your words are enough for Misha to realize that you aren’t alone and he doesn’t disappoint.

“Got company then.” You can tell he’s frustrated, likely hoping for a less one sided conversation.

“Yup, we’re just grabbing our autos and then we might spend a bit of time hanging out to ogle at Misha before the girls head home and I head back to the room to crash.”

You hear Misha chuckle and can’t stop the curl at the corner of your lips. It felt good to hear him let go of a little of the tension.

“I’m just getting dressed for the op. I’m kind of nervous,” he gives a little giggle, ”I’ve got my bag here in the green room. Usually when I have to leave late after check out they send my luggage down to the front desk.”

“Do you think they suspect something?” You’re a little confused since this is the first time Misha has voiced any real concern over being caught himself.

“No, not at all. My subterfuge has been for your benefit. If it were just me I would have said fuck you to them and had you at my side every second. It’s…” Misha trails off before continuing, a real note of panic sneaking into his voice, “It’s just that Jared is going to be in here while I’m at the photo session.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes. You look up to see your friends look over and smile before resuming their conversation.

“I’ve got an idea for that. I’ll text you if it works out.”

“I’m pretty sure _I’m_ supposed to be taking care of _you._ ” You can hear the smile in his voice and you’d give anything to see his eyes crinkling up in person. “Will I still see you at my photo session?” His voice is soft and hesitant.

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it and what I said before still applies, should be fun.” You try to keep your voice neutral but you can hear the note of challenge creep in.

Misha’s voice is low and dangerous, “Just remember little girl, I won’t always be in character.”

You’re about to respond in kind when you hear them call row B. You know you need to get through the lines quickly to get your plan in motion.

“I’ve got to go, I’ll see you soon.” You hang up before he has a chance to respond before stepping back to join the girls.

“Hey does anyone still have their room card on them? I think I forgot mine in the room.”

You can feel Fi’s eyes on you but you just can’t make yourself look at her.

“I’ve got mine.” Jenn says as she pulls it out of her pocket. She hands it over to you and you offer a brief thanks before heading over to get in line. As you stand there waiting you are racking your brain trying to figure out how exactly you are going to do this. The plan is to get the key card to Jensen so maybe he can get someone to take Misha’s luggage to your room. You figure if anyone can get it done discreetly he can.

You solve the first issue by pulling out the sharpie you’ve got stashed in your bag and writing the room number on the card. The next issue is how to give the card to Jensen and let _him_ know what it’s for. You know that you have to pass your item for autographing to the volunteer so you won’t be able to slip it to him then. You contemplate briefly asking him to sign your chest, knowing that would get him close enough, but that would get you the exact attention you’ve been avoiding all week.

You make it through Jared’s autograph line fairly quickly, your time with him a blur, and you find yourself about ten people away from Jensen and you still haven’t come up with anything. It’s not til you are five people away that you overhear the people talking behind you about how they hope they don’t start crying that you are struck by inspiration. You aren’t terribly _happy_ about it but you know how you’re going to go about it.

You avoid looking at Jensen as you move forward. Thankfully your emotions from earlier aren’t too terribly far from the surface so you’re able to pull on those to get your eyes to start tearing up. By the time you are next in line you’ve got tears running down your face and even manage a hitch in your breath.

You hand off your photo op from earlier, the one with all three of the guys as the one with just Jensen and Misha is staying safely tucked away, to the volunteer and wait for him to finish. As you slide over to stand in front of him he is looking down at the op handed to him. When he registers who is in it he looks up with a big smile but it quickly slips from his face when he sees the state you are in. You make sure you are turned just slightly away from the volunteer and flash him a quick wink to let him know you are okay before you start your act.

“Oh my god Jensen, I’m such a huge fan and you are so amazing and wonderful and great,” you pause your rambling to take a deep breath, managing a little hiccup to give it authenticity before continuing on. “Can I have a hug?” Thankfully Jensen understands that there is something sneaky going on and he complies, ignoring the stink eye from the volunteer.

“Of course sweetheart, get over here.” Jensen stands and gestures for you to come around, something unexpected but you are grateful for because it makes it much easier to pull off what you need to do instead of leaning across the table.

You scoot around the table and make sure that your head is on the shoulder facing away from the crowd. Unfortunately there was no way to tell Jensen not to put both his arms around you so instead of putting the room key in his hand like you wanted you have to improvise.

As carefully as you can you feel for Jensen’s pocket on the side hidden from everyone else. When you find the edge you slide the card in, eliciting a low chuckle from Jensen. Standing on your tiptoes you whisper in his ear.

“The room number is on the key. Misha is worried about the big guy getting his hands on his luggage while he’s busy.” You try to suppress giggling at Misha’s expense but it comes out anyway. Thankfully you are able to muffle it against Jensen’s shirt.

“Figures, pretty girl slips me her room key and it’s for Misha.” You pull away and Jensen reaches up to brush away the tears and says in a normal voice “You alright sweetheart?” You hear awws and squeals from the people in the line watching as you nod before moving back around the table. Jensen sits back down and signs the op you had pretty much forgotten about before handing it to you with a wink.

You head back to where Jenn and Amanda are waiting. Fi is in line for her Jared autograph.

“Hey, we’ve already said our goodbyes to Fi. We’re gonna get going.”

Amanda pulls you in to sandwich you between herself and Jenn so they can squish you. You can feel the tears start to form as your throat tightens.

“You guys are amazing, you know that?” You sniffle as you turn to give them each individual hugs. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you this weekend. Just text me when you get home. I love you guys.”

After a few more hugs and some tears the girls head out with promises of a group Skype the following weekend. You go back to your seat to wait for Fi but when the announcement for Castiel ops flashes on the screen she still isn’t back. You know she’s heading out right after this so you decide to go find her. When you do she’s waiting in Jensen’s op line.

“What’s up? I figured you would have already made it through by now.”

“Jensen had to run and take a bathroom break. He just got back so it won’t be much longer.” Fi looks like she wants to say more but with all the people around her you know she won’t.

“I’ve got to get going, they just called up the Castiel ops.” You wrap an arm around Fi’s waist. “I’m guessing by the time I’m done you’ll be gone.”

Much to your horror you can feel a full on sob building up in your chest. You know if you don’t get out of here soon you’re going to be a mess. You say a quick goodbye and give Fi a hug that neither of you want to end.

Just before you pull away to leave Fi leans in and whispers to you. “Be careful. I love you.”

You give her hand a squeeze before releasing it to let her go.

You make a pit stop at the bathroom to collect yourself and do a little damage control before heading up for your op. You take your time, wanting to make sure you are the last in line. You want to tease Misha but would rather have as small an audience as possible.

When you get up there the line is almost to the bathrooms so you’ve got plenty of time to work on building up your courage. For once no one has a big complicated op that has them jockeying for the last spot so you’re able to hold it. When you get to the door you allow yourself to enjoy watching Misha. It impresses you how he is able to make it so clear that he is not Misha.

You’re running through what it is that you want to say and do in your head, trying to slip into a role of your own. Temptress has never been a part you’ve been terribly comfortable playing but something about the way Misha always challenges your comfort zone has you wanting to try.

You’re two people away from the volunteer taking tickets when a group of girls come running into the op room and take their place behind you. You feel a flutter of panic settle in when you realize you’ve got no good excuse to switch spots with them. As you step up to hand over your ticket you take a deep breath and steady yourself. You let all the rest of the people fade away as you saunter up to ‘Castiel’ who at this moment is watching your every move with that intense stare of his.

Licking your lips you move into him so your back is to Chris to give yourself time to talk to Misha. When you lean into him to whisper he puts his hands on your arms. You whisper into his ear, “Hey Cas, I’ve got a question for you.”

The deep voice of Castiel ripples through your body, “Very well,  I’ll do my best to answer you.”

“So, in that story of the Pizza Man and the Babysitter,” you pause as you run the finger that is hidden between your bodies up and down the familiar blue tie, “Did the Pizza Man ever tie the Babysitter up?”

You see a momentary flash of something changing in Misha’s eyes before they slip back into that penetrating gaze. “Yes, he did. Does that have something to do with why he was spanking her?”

You do your best to stop yourself from giggling. “Yes, she was very naughty. So the Pizza Man probably tied her up to punish her by making her orgasm over and over.”

‘Cas’ looks at you quizzically, “And this is something that one would consider an acceptable punishment?”

“Oh yes, very acceptable.” you nod as you speak, attempting a wide eyed innocent expression. You finger the blue tie again and look up, “Here’s the thing Cas, I’ve been very naughty. I was hoping you could help me behave better by using this,” you lift the tie slightly “to tie my hands up and punish me.”

“Well,” ‘Cas’ squints down at you “if it would help you to become a better person then I suppose I must.”

He reaches up to loosen the tie before pulling it out from under his collar and over his head. He clasps your hands together before slipping the loop over them and tightening them over your wrists. The lost of freedom shoots lighting to your core as you flash back to your dream from this morning. It probably doesn’t help that the entire time ‘Cas’ maintains that same intense eye contact. He wraps the ends of the tie around and between your wrists before pulling them up against his shoulder, his free hand sliding to your lower back to pull you hard against him.

“Now I’m to make you achieve orgasm repeatedly, correct?” The realization that this has suddenly backfired on you slams into you. You expected at best you would make Misha break character, at worst ‘Cas’ would fumble awkwardly.

You didn’t calculate in the fact that Misha is both incredibly smart and an amazing actor that has had years of working with Jared and Jensen to make him immune to amature attempts to break him.

Before this gets entirely out of hand you shift your body enough to be facing towards Chris. You feel the brush of lips on your cheek, just a few millimeters away from the corner of your mouth as the hand on your lower back presses harder in an attempt to trap you. Thankfully it's at that moment that the flash goes off and you wiggle free of the arms of steel. You hold your hands up to ‘Cas’ to be untied.

“I don’t know, I didn’t complete your punishment. Are you truly less naughty now?” You feel warm heat rising up your neck to your face when you realize this time he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear when before it had mostly been quiet and hidden by the music.

You feel a light tap on your shoulder from behind and you turn to see Chris standing behind you.

“Here, let me get that for you.” As he’s unbinding your hands for you he leans in to speak quietly.

“Can you wait just a few minutes? I’m going to have my assistant print this out right away for you so it doesn’t get set out on the table.” You raise an eyebrow in question. You’ve seen some pretty questionable ops before that weren’t hidden from the public, you thought yours must be pretty tame in comparison.

Shrugging you leave the tie with Chris and walk over to the exit of the room to wait. You explain what Chris says to the volunteer waiting at the door. Chris calls his assistant over and slips the memory card out of his camera before replacing it with another. You wait nervously as they go through the last few ops. The last girl is walking over to get in place when Chris’ assistant walks over to you and hands you the op. You take it without looking and book it out of the room.

You’re halfway back to the hall when you make the decision to go back to your room. You’re tempted to go back to the hall just to watch Misha while he signs autographs and maybe see if you can mess with him a little but since that always ends up getting turned around on you, you  opt just to head back to your room.

You haven’t been back since your friends packed up and although you doubt they would leave you with _too_ much of a mess they weren’t aware that you would be having company.

When you leave most of the foot traffic from the con behind, you decide to take a peek at your op. It’s not hard to see why Chris held it back. Between your hands fisted up near the collar of Misha’s dress shirt, the way the fabric of your skirt is getting hiked up by Misha grabbing your ass (which by the way, when did _that_ happen?), the way you’re pressed against him like it's rutting season, his lips open and against the corner of your mouth his teeth bared, and the way you’re biting down on your bottom lip with your eyes half closed this looks like a much more intimate moment than it should between two strangers, even if one of them is a great actor.

You’re so wrapped up in staring at the picture that you don’t even realize that you’ve already made it back to your room. The first thing you see when you open the door is foreign luggage sitting just inside the door. You walk in and notice a paper sitting on the desk and your belly does a flip flop when you see sitting on top of the paper a box of condoms and half a bottle of liquor. Clearly this is not a note left by one of your roommates. Walking over you pick up the note.

_Thought you might need these. Have fun you crazy kids. J_

You run your fingers along the rolling suitcase, everything feeling much more real than it had before. You can’t help but laugh though when you realize that the pile of neatly folded clothes sitting on top of the suitcase is what Misha had been wearing before. Jensen hadn’t even left his clothes behind for Misha to change into.

The first half an hour in the room you rush around picking up scraps of trash, wiping down counters, making the beds and packing away everything you won’t need before you leave for the airport tomorrow. Checking your clock you realized you’ve probably got another twenty minutes or so before you even hear from Misha. You’re glad that you never told him what your room number was so you’ll at least have some warning when he calls or texts you for it.

It occurs to you that other than the granola bar that Jensen made you eat it’s been a long time since you’ve had anything of substance. The last thing you want is to spend tonight feeling like crap and you have a feeling you’re going to need your energy. You also think it's a safe bet that Misha hasn’t had much time to eat either. You pull up the room service menu and flip through it trying to decide what to order. Clearly there is no need for alcohol, thank you Jensen. You settle on a veggie pizza, a fruit and cheese platter and a couple of orders of cheesecake. You may like Misha but you aren’t sharing your dessert with him. If he doesn’t like cheesecake then more for you.

You’ve managed to kill most of the time ordering the room service. Looking around for something else to do your eyes land on the bottle of liquor, whiskey as it happens, and figure that you could probably use some ice. You grab the ice bucket and head to the door.

You’re entirely unprepared to open the door to see Misha, still dressed as Castiel, about to knock on the door. You both stand there surprised before you find yourself feeling an odd bit of deja vu.

“What are you doing here?” Oh geez. At least this time you weren’t in your pajamas.

“Really?” Misha smirks, “This again? I’d like to remind you, I was invited!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are still with me!
> 
> I just want to warn you I am terribly nervous about the next chapter. I'm going to do my best to get it written and up next weekend but I can't make that promise.  
> Also, feel free to look me up on Tumblr at http://spnbrennafae.tumblr.com/


	7. Alone at Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone else has gone home and you've got a wayward angel standing at your door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late!
> 
> Shocker, I was too long winded and ended up having to divide the night into two chapters. 
> 
> I've put in some pictures of the hotel room, hopefully it helps a little with picturing the layout. I had a hard time describing it.

 

 

“But...how..I didn’t..” You stop and take a deep breath. It’s nice to know you haven’t changed _that_ much in the past two days. You’re still the stammering fool that you were the first time Misha showed up unexpectedly. You start again.

“How did you know where to go? I figured you’d be calling any time to get the room number.”

“I asked Jensen after he texted me to let me know he’d brought my things up to your room. Thanks for that.” Misha steps into you and reaches up a hand to gently brush against your cheek.

“That’s not the only thing he brought.” You giggle nervously as you glance over to the desk. Misha’s eyes follow your gaze and he laughs when he spots the condoms and liquor.

“Very considerate of him. He’s still an asshole for not leaving me my change of clothes.” Misha scowls a little which only makes you laugh more.

“I dunno,” you pause to reach up and run your fingers along the edge of the blue tie “I don’t mind so much.”

“Really? You ran away from Cas so fast at that op I think he may have been a little offended.” Misha slides his hands up your arms as he gently starts maneuvering you backwards out of the doorway and into the room. You feel the beginning flutters of panic in your chest.

“I..I was just going to get ice for the whiskey.” you say a little too loudly as you gesture at Misha with the ice bucket. You slip out of his grasp and move around him out to the hallway. When you hear the door shut behind you, you turn and see Misha following behind you with a grin.

“Good call, ice is good. Ice can be fun.”

You shiver at the implication and narrowly manage to dodge Misha’s hands when you hear him speed up behind you. You turn around and smirk at him as you walk backwards to make sure he can’t sneak up on you. Luckily you’ve passed by the alcove with the icemaker in it at least twice a day for the past four days so you don’t really need to see where you’re going. You go around the corner, losing sight of Misha briefly, which you take advantage of by turning and running to the alcove and ducking into it.

You set the bucket onto the tray below the dispenser and push the button, thinking you could fill it up and be turned around in just a few seconds. This, however, appears to be the slowest ice machine on the planet and before it even has a chance to start you feel two hands sliding along your waist to wrap around you. As Misha pulls you tightly into him his warm breath ghosts over your neck before he speaks.

“Always trying to get away little girl.” His voice is low and soft, sending shivers down your spine.

One of Misha’s hands stays wrapped around your middle as the other slips back, traveling down your skirt before you start to feel the material tighten as he begins gathering it, much like he had at the bar.

You grip the edge of the tray as you watch the ice start to fall a couple pieces at a time. The hand gathering material reaches the hem and starts to slide under it, the tips of his fingers brushing high on the back of your thigh, just below the curve of your ass. You inhale sharply as his hand flattens against one cheek before massaging gently.

“Still no underwear,” Misha kisses your shoulder softly as his hand slides back down and slips between your thighs. “Good girl.”

“There has to be something wrong with this ice machine, it’s so slow. I should probably call someone about it.” Your voice comes out rather weak and choppy. You feel and hear Misha chuckle against your skin before the tip of his tongue starts dragging along your shoulder. When his hand reaches the apex of your thighs, you suck in your breath and squeeze your eyes shut. You feel the cold metal biting into your fingers.

When Misha turns his hand sideways and cups your mound your legs are gently forced to open further. Misha moans against the skin just below your ear as his fingers slip between your folds. “I adore how you’re always so wet for me.”

The whimper that escapes your lips as he slips one long finger inside you turns into a loud cry as you feel Misha gently bite down on the sensitive skin on your neck.

“I’m so glad I can do this without having to hide it.” He licks and sucks at the spot as he slowly starts to slide his finger in and out, collecting some moisture with another finger before sliding it up to tease at your clit.

You feel your knees starting to buckle, the coiling heat in your belly snapping ridiculously fast. It’s no wonder though, considering you’ve been moments away from getting off for way too long now. Misha’s grip around you tightens further as he molds your body against his. You feel his own pressing need clearly outlined against your hip.

You’re pretty certain you’re about to have your long awaited orgasm against the ice machine. You probably would have if you didn’t both notice the sound of laughter and talking coming closer. You manage to gather your wits as Misha slips out of you and you turn and give him a shove into the corner, behind the little wall that frames the opening. You grab the full ice bucket and turn as you smooth your skirt down.

The ladies that you heard in the hall walk by and you breath a sigh of relief when you see from the name tags that they’re from the Bible convention that had been going on in the hall next door. You bite down on your lip but as soon as they turn the corner and leave earshot you burst out laughing. Misha quirks an eyebrow at you so you do your best to explain between laughs. Misha starts laughing too but when he starts reaching for you, the laugh dies in your throat.

“We should probably,” you pause “It’s late and people…” you trail off as you turn out of Misha’s reach and head for your room, trying to keep yourself from running as you evade his hands.

When you get to the door you pull out your key card but your hands aren’t cooperating and you find yourself pressed up against the door with Misha plastered against your back. His hand slides across your shoulders before pushing your hair to the side. Lips and stubble ghost over the back of your neck and you feel warm breath as Misha speaks.

“If I didn’t know any better I really _would_ think you were trying to run away.”

Shock courses through you as you feel the sharp bite of his teeth at the base of your skull before they’re replaced by softer nips and sucks. It’s at this moment that your hand remembers how to function and you run the card through the slot and manage to push the door open.

Turning as you back away, your hands twisting at the edge of the bucket, you watch as Misha stalks in behind you and shuts the door. When he turns back and looks at you the predatory look disappears and is replaced by concern.

“ _Are_ you trying to get away?” He pauses, his voice soft as he continues. “Have you changed your mind?”

You giggle nervously and force yourself to stop backing up.

“No, of course not!” Even you aren’t convinced.

“Talk to me, please.” Misha walks toward you cautiously, his hands raised in a non-threatening manner. When he gets to you he takes the bucket from your hands and sets it aside before taking your hands gently into his. You’re reminded of the first time he held your hand to comfort you in the middle of a dusty dirt road. “You know Kale doesn’t just apply when things are a little more out of the box. You can safeword your way out of this whole thing. I promise you I won’t be upset.”

You watch your hands as Misha gently rubs circles on your skin with the pads of his thumbs.

“It’s not that,” you can’t bring yourself to look up, afraid of what you’ll see in those crystal blue eyes. “It’s just..” you trail off again and have to take a deep breath to get it all out at once before you shut down. “There’s always been an excuse. There isn’t enough time, someone might walk in, there are people around. What if…” your whole body slumps with the weight “What if now that there’s nothing to interrupt I end up just being a disappointment.”

You squeeze your eyes shut when Misha’s hand releases yours and moves up to your chin. You keep them closed as he gently lifts your chin.

“Look at me.” His voice is soft and comforting. You slowly open your eyes and are met with his smiling eyes. “If we were to lay down right now and sleep until it was time to leave I’ll still always look back on this weekend with nothing but fondness. You couldn’t disappoint me now if you tried.”

You feel the knots untwisting inside you as the calming effect of Misha’s kind eyes and warm smile settle in and you return his smile with one of your own.

“If anyone should be worried about disappointing it should be this old slut, right?”

You both burst out laughing and as you watch him, his wide smile, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, the magical sound of his laugh washing over you, all the worry you were feeling dissipates. Misha moves his hand from your chin to cup your cheek before leaning in. When he’s a couple of inches away he stops, his breath whispering across your lips.

“Kale?” He quirks his eyebrow in question but there’s no challenge in his expression.

You smile softly before shaking your head. His smile grows briefly before his eyes droop closed as he moves in. You let your eyes drift closed at the first touch of his lips. This kiss is soft and slow, no urgency, no hard need. It’s like he finally has time and now he’s going to use it to map you out, finally learn your body.

You can’t help but sigh into Misha as he releases your hands entirely and slides around your waist to gently pull you to him. His other hand slips from your cheek to settle against the back of your neck.

Still, he doesn’t try to deepen the kiss. Lips keep ghosting over yours, moving from corner to corner, stopping to barely press your bottom lip between them before moving on. Getting frustrated you move to deepen the kiss yourself but Misha pulls back and when you can’t chase his lips down you can’t help but pout as you open your eyes.

“That might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” The laughter in his eyes has the desire to challenge rising up in you but when his eyes change and go dark and serious you feel it wane, along with the strength in your legs. “Did you want something little girl?”

As you bite down on your bottom lip and nod, you can feel the start of the coiling heat as it moves through you.

Misha’s grip tightens on the back of your neck, putting pressure on the bite there and sending tingles of pain down your spine. He pulls you in roughly, his lips dragging hard against yours.

Speaking against your lips as the fingers splayed on your waist dig in to pull your hips hard against his “If you look at me like that again I might just come in my pants like a horny teenager. You’re dangerous little girl.”

He dives back in, this time tracing your lips with the tip of his tongue before nudging at the seam of your mouth, demanding access. Your lips part and he slides in to meet your tongue. Your arms, which had been pressed between your two bodies, slide up and over Misha’s shoulders, your fingertips against the nape of his neck. When you find purchase there you grip tightly, your nails surely leaving crescent marks against his skin. Misha growls into your mouth before turning your body, angling you back to the nearest bed.

_Knock knock knock._

“You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me.” Misha’s forehead rests against yours. When you open your eyes you see his squeezed shut. “How is this even _possible_?”

“My fault I’m afraid.” You say as Misha pulls back and eyes you suspiciously. “I figured we’d need our energy so I ordered room service. I thought it would get here before you and then I forgot all about it. I didn’t count on you being so eager to get here.”

You pull back, smirking at him, your hands slipping back down to rest on his chest. The hand pressed against your neck slides down to rest on your shoulder and Misha frowns.

“You’re still pretty tense. Why don’t I deal with this while you go take a hot shower.” He kneads and the taut muscle that connects your neck to your shoulder before leaning in to whisper into your ear “Just be quick. That’s only the first part in my plan to give you release.”

You shiver as he sucks your earlobe between his lips. Another knock sounds against the door, this one more insistent. Misha drops his hands and pulls away and snaps out “One second!”

You can’t help but giggle at his frustration, and the look he flashes you gives you the distinct impression he’s looking forward to making you pay for that indiscretion. You head to the bathroom as he heads for the door. You’re about to close the door behind you when he calls out.

“Hey what time's your flight?” He pauses with his hand on the door.

“Umm, not til four but it gives me plenty of time to get there and grab lunch at the airport.” You hesitate before closing the door. “Why?”

“Just wondering if I should put in an order for breakfast now.” Misha grins sheepishly. “I imagine we’ll burn off what we eat.”

“Answer the door.” You hiss with a grin as the knocking returns.

Misha returns your grin and says in a singsong voice. “Hurry back.”

You close the bathroom door and listen to the muffled voices for a second before you start undressing. Unsurprised you note that Misha’s added another mark to the growing collection on your neck. You start the water before turning to pin your hair up. Using the handheld mirror you check out the back of your neck. This mark is deep and already darkening.

Shivering you turn and step into the shower and let the warm water wash over you.You move carefully to avoid disturbing your hair and make up. You’re almost too aware that Misha has already seen you at your scruffiest but your vanity isn’t quite ready to repeat that.

Soaping up the washcloth you run the rough material over your skin. The current state of your near constant arousal comes to the forefront of your mind when passing the cloth over your nipples is enough to have you back and teetering on the edge. It wouldn’t take much. A few seconds of attention to your clit would likely be enough to get you off right now. You could take care of it and be able to think with a clear head with the added benefit of not looking so damn desperate.

Your hand begins to drift south but you can’t bring yourself to take away Misha’s right to be the one to get you off after having you wanting for so long. You finish up quickly before you find yourself tempted again, taking a few minutes just to stand with the hot water beating down on the tense muscles in your shoulders and back. When you feel like the water has relaxed you adequately you shut it off and step out. As you towel yourself off you realize you didn’t grab anything to change into. You briefly contemplate putting your dress back on but hate putting dirty clothes on after a shower. Making a decision you wrap the towel around you and crack the door open.

“Hey Misha, I forgot to grab a change of clothes, could you grab the PJs on top of my suitcase please?” You rest your head against the doorframe as you listen to him shuffling around. He’s got your PJs, Superwoman this time, in his hand but when he gets to the door he looks down at them before setting them on the counter outside the bathroom door just out of your reach.

“Seems kind of unnecessary.” Misha reaches up and runs his finger along the edge of the towel, stopping briefly to toy with the fabric tucked in to itself.

His mischievous grin has your heart racing and you’re certain you’re about to lose your towel altogether until he moves his hand to your shoulder before sliding down to grasp your hand. He pulls gently, encouraging you to come out.

“Come eat.” As he pulls you from the little alcove that leads to the bathroom you see he’s spread out the food on one of the beds. There are two glasses of whiskey sitting on the table between the two beds, the level in one about half the level of the other. Before releasing your hand Misha pulls you into him before gently brushing his lips against yours and you don’t need to ask him which cup is yours as you smell the warm, woody scent of whiskey.

“Started without me?” you ask as you pull back slightly, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you grin at him.

He groans and the hands that had migrated down to your hips tighten slightly.

“It was either that or break into the bathroom to join you.” He lets go of you to move around to the opposite side of the bed. You shrug before smiling coyly at him.

“Wasn’t locked.” You giggle as Misha squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head.

He leans over and pats the pillow on the other side of the food and you move over to sit, fumbling a bit with the towel trying to find a way to sit while keeping it in position. When you settle Misha smiles at your struggles before pushing the tray with the pizza toward you. You choose a slice and take a bite.

“First we eat, then _I_ eat.”

If his goal was to make you choke he succeeded brilliantly. You glare at him as he breaks into a full body laugh before standing and walking over to the mini fridge. He pulls out a bottle of water, evidently he must have been exploring while he was waiting, and walks over to you. He hands you the bottle then brushes your hair back from your face as you drink.

When you recover, you take the bottle from your lips and can’t help but notice exactly how close Misha’s still bulging groin is to your face. Your eyes flit from your hands back to the zipper of his pants and you can’t help but lick your suddenly dry lips.

You hear another chuckle come from above and Misha leans down to whisper against your ear. “Plenty of time for that later, but I’m taking care of you first.”

You feel the tip of his tongue trace along the shell of your ear before he backs away, returning to his seat on the other side. Cautiously you take another bite of your pizza. Misha picks up a piece and starts munching away. Of course you can’t help but watch his mouth as he eats, what he said still ringing in your head.

A good time to sample that whiskey Jensen left. You pick up the glass and take a rather generous gulp, and promptly regret it as the burn pours down your throat. You’re definitely more of a mixed drink gal. Seeing that Misha is watching you and looks ready to laugh, you squint at him and force the sputter that’s working its way out back down.

You finish up your slice and while Misha works on a second you decide to nibble on the fruit. If you happen to lick the tip of the strawberry extra suggestively as Misha watches your mouth well then that’s just because it’s a _very_ good strawberry.

Misha quirks an eyebrow but finishes his pizza in silence. You munch on a few grapes before grabbing the bottle of water from earlier to wash everything down. You figure you should probably nurse the whiskey a bit.

Misha reaches over to take the bottle from your hands and takes a long drink himself before handing it back. Its unexpected but the silence is actually pretty comfortable. Of course you should have known that would mean it would be short lived. Misha grabs his own strawberry and takes a small bite from the tip.

“These are just as tasty as you make them look,” his grin turns into that beautiful big gummy smile of his as he stands and moves around the bed. “I couldn’t possibly _not_ share.”

It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow as he come near you. You open your mouth just enough to take a bite from the strawberry but instead of holding it out for you to do so he moves it slightly lower than you expect and rubs the open end along your lips, the juice coating them. He presses slightly on your bottom lip and forces some of the juice to begin dribbling down your chin.

“Oh, you got a little something just there.” His voice is full of mock concern as his free hand lifts up to gently tilt your chin.

He leans down and catches the juice on your chin with the tip of his tongue before chasing it back up to your bottom lip. You force yourself to maintain eye contact even though your lids are fighting to droop as he slowly laps up the juices, first cleaning your bottom lip, then the top. When he’s satisfied he dips the tip of his tongue just inside your bottom lip, running along your teeth. You are so focused on this that you don’t see, only feel, when the strawberry is pressed just above where your cleavage is hidden behind the towel.

He pulls away, his eyes sparkling.

“Oops. I think I got some more on you. Here, let me help you with that.” His hand leaves your chin and grasps your hand and you find yourself pulled to your feet abruptly. The roughness of the movement shoots heat that had been lying dormant to your core.

Misha dips his head down and starts licking at the sticky spot on your skin. The licks turn quickly to kisses and then firm suction as he draws your skin into his mouth. You breathe in sharply as the sucking turns to nips with his sharp teeth. Your hands leave the towel to reach around and grip the back of his head, your fingers threading through his hair.

You realize your mistake as you feel Misha smile against your skin. You feel fingers brush against your skin along the edge of the towel a second before you feel the cool air hit your skin, the sound of the towel hitting the floor reaching your ears.

Your whole body freezes. You know it’s stupid. This man knows you intimately. He’s been inside you. But he’s never actually seen you completely naked before. Misha slides the tip of his tongue from the mark he has been working at up your neck all the way to your ear before he whispers against the skin just below it.

“Breathe little girl.”

You didn’t realize you’d stopped until just then. You let the air you’d been holding in out in a long shaky breath. Misha pulls away, his hands grasping yours to keep your arms away from your body. Damn him for knowing you were going to move to cover yourself.

The flush that spreads across your body as he takes in your naked form only fuels your embarrassment. However, when you catch sight of the heat in Misha’s eyes as they rake over every inch of exposed flesh, the embarrassment is quickly replaced by want.

It’s like it isn’t his eyes that are traveling over you but his fingers. You can practically feel them as they slip over your breasts, down your belly to your hips, down one leg and up the other before settling in at your mound. Your body shudders visibly as his tongue darts out to moisten his lips.

Misha releases the hand that was being held by the same hand as the strawberry. He lifts the berry up and slowly draws a stripe from the hollow of your throat, down over his mark and further down, dragging between your breasts to the base of your sternum. He bites the rest of the red berry and chews slowly before tossing the hull to the plate. He leans in again and follows the path of the juice, licking and sucking as he goes.

As his face moves between your breasts the sensation of his rough stubble dragging across the sensitive skin on either side adds to the rest that you’re feeling and your knees start to feel weak. The coil in your belly that has been coming and going all weekend suddenly snaps to. It occurs to you that you’re very likely going to come embarrassingly easy.

When Misha finishes cleaning up he leans back toward the tray and picks up another strawberry. This time he places it gently against your lips. Following his unspoken instructions you bite off the tip to get the juices flowing.

You find it difficult to chew and swallow as he starts moving around your left breast, leaving a trail of juice with every rotation until he’s circling the tightening bud of your nipple. When he reaches the apex he swoops in to the start and cleans every inch of soft skin, stopping here and there to rub the rough edge of his jaw against you before continuing on.

As he reaches the end of the juice his mouth and tongue go from firm to feather light. Your grasp tightens on the hand that is still holding yours as you squirm, trying to encourage more pressure by arching your back. When that does nothing but make Misha chuckle you move your free hand back to thread your fingers through his hair again, intent on pushing him into you. Instead you feel fingers as hard as steel wrap around your wrist. He finishes cleaning your nipple giving one brief nip that has you dripping wet before he pulls away completely, releasing your hands.

Suddenly feeling very vulnerable out in the open you can’t help but cover yourself and you feel yourself almost physically shrinking down. Misha watches as he backs away and frowns slightly. He turns and walks toward the desk where he had set his Castiel trench coat, suit jacket and tie down while you were showering. As he runs his hands over the fabric on his desk his voice rumbles out, low and with a touch of edge.

“I foresee two problems. One, you’re surprisingly impatient for someone that’s shown masterful restrain until now.” Misha shifts the material around with the tips of his fingers. “Two, you’re incredibly self conscious. This is combining to make a whole get this over with vibe.”

Misha pulls his phone from the pocket of the suit jacket and for a heart stopping moment you expect him to lift it up to snap a photo. You grip yourself a little tighter. Misha sees this and chuckles.

“Don’t worry, I’m just setting a couple of alarms. I’m not going to repeat my mistake and regardless of what happens here, whether it's intense or entirely vanilla, I intend to have enough time to properly care for you.” He taps away on his phone. “Which reminds me, I called down while you were showering and was able to set up late check out.”

Startled, you begin calculating the math in your head. You’d considered it when you realized how late your flight was going to be but it was one of the areas you’d cut costs by not affording yourself the luxury. It takes Misha no time at all to read you like a book.

“No sweetie,” his voice is soft and soothing, the edge gone. “I’ve covered it.”

“Misha you didn’t have to do that.” You aren’t sure how you feel about this. You’re happy to have more time with him but you don’t like having him use his money. Misha sighs as he watches your face. He shakes his head and goes back to setting his alarms.

“I can see I’m going to have distract those thoughts circling around in your brain right out of you.” He pauses as he taps once more. “So I’ve set an alarm to let us know when it’s time to start winding down and another for when it’s time to start packing up.”

He taps once more and his face breaks into a laughing smile. When he looks up and sees your questioning expression he actually laughs out loud. While he types out something you take advantage and sit down on the edge of the empty bed, the position allowing you more coverage. You eye the towel on the floor but you get the feeling picking it up wouldn’t be a great idea.

“Jensen texted a little while ago. He says, and I quote, Did you make that poor girl come yet?” Misha chuckles and he does that cute thing where he mouths the words as he types.

It doesn’t take a trained lip reader to know that his response was ‘working on it’. You feel yourself blush so you look down at your hands, not feeling brave enough to look him in the eye when you say what you’re thinking.

“He told me to tell you if you wanted a third sometime for more than just punishment to let him know.” You chance a peek up at Misha and see he’s watching you, reading you.

“Really?” His expression is so completely neutral it's unnerving. “And is that something you would enjoy?”

As you attempt to stammer out an answer you feel your heart rate pick up speed. One hand drifts down to pick at a loose thread in the blanket while the other hugs tighter around your torso. When you can’t find the words under Misha’s expectant gaze you look down at the thread which is suddenly fascinating. You snap your head back up though when Misha’s laughter fills the room. You glare at him briefly but can’t help but return the warm smile he’s giving you.

“You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed, do you know that?” He pauses and his face gets a little bit serious. “You know there’s no wrong answer to that though, right? Well, that isn’t true.” You tense up when he stops again, hoping he’ll tell you _what_ that wrong answer is and not just wait for you to give it. You release the breath you were holding when he continues. “The only wrong answer is a dishonest one. We’ve discussed that I don’t like people who try to tell me what I want to hear and Jensen’s the same way.” When he stops again you realize he’s given you the floor and likely isn’t going to resume anything until you answer and the aching need you’ve got between your legs is insistent that that _does not happen._

“Well, I think,” you pause, searching for the right words.”I think that if there hadn’t been anyone around when the two of you did what you did,” you feel the ever present heat in your neck and face bump up a notch “I would have enjoyed if you had..” Why are words coming so difficultly for you? “ _finished_ with me, you know, _that_ way. Stop laughing Misha.”

If looks could kill Misha would be a dead man right now, that you’re sure of.

“ _But_ , and I don’t know why, at this particular moment, I’m kind of glad it’s just the two of us.”

“All right then, that’s all we need to talk about in that regards, for now.” Misha looks back down at the text message on his phone. “What do you think about maybe helping me give him a little thank you gift later?”

“Did you have something in mind?” You feel cautious but not overly so, which surprises you.

“How about we liven up his layover with a little Skype?” The waggle of his eyebrows has you narrowing your eyes at him.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t just mean a Hey, how’s your flight kind of call?” When his grin only widens your suspicions are confirmed. Sighing you nod, “I suppose he earned it.” Misha’s face suddenly loses its lightness.

“Hey, none of that now. He was happy to help and doesn’t expect anything in return. If anyone owes him it’s me. It should have-”

“Misha stop. Let's not spend what little time we have left rehashing, okay? I’m fine, I promise. And I promise that I’ll tell you right away if I’m not fine.” The tension drains from his face almost immediately and he starts tapping away at his phone. He pauses and squints down at it.

“How do you feel about me suggesting he be ready to record? His own little keepsake?”

“Do you trust him?”

“Completely.”

You nod, giving him permission, your belly flip flopping. Oddly enough you can’t tell if it's out of nerves or excitement at the prospect. Misha smiles at you, something almost akin to pride in his eyes before he finishes writing the text and tossing his phone on the bed with the food.

“Where were we? Oh yes, impatience to the point of disobedience and inability to relax due to _constantly_ trying to cover up that lovely body of yours.” His grin turns wicked in an instant as he reaches down to grab the blue material draped on top of his trench coat. He turns towards you, tie in hand and walks forward slowly.

“What’s your safeword?”

As images from your dream this morning flash through your mind you manage to squeak out a weak “Kale” before he reaches you.

“Lay back.” The command is succinct with a tone that doesn’t leave room for debate so you do as he says, your legs still hanging off the edge of the bed, bent at the knees. “Put your arms over your head and your hands together.” When you comply he moves forward to straddle your hips, a knee pressing into the bed on either side. Misha wraps the length of fabric around your wrists before tying a tight knot, securing your hands together. Then he pulls the fabric to the headboard, pulling your arms taut in the process. He secures the ends of the ties before backing off of you and the bed. Your pulse quickens when Misha reaches down to unbuckle the belt at his waist. He pulls it out slowly before placing it deliberately next to you on the bed.

“I’m not going to bind you any more than I have to, but this is there if I need it.” He places a knee between your legs to lean forward. He locks eyes with you and speaks in a low whisper. “I can just as easily eat you out with your ankles belted to your wrists.” Your pelvic muscles clench; just listening to Misha talking about what he is going to do to you has moisture once again pooling in your folds.

Misha pushes off the bed and turns back to the fruit on the other bed. You watch him as he picks up another strawberry and you bite down hard on your bottom lip to suppress a groan when you realize he intends to keep teasing you. You know though that if you let your impatience show he’ll take great joy in drawing it out.

Taking a bite of the strawberry Misha turns to face you. He chews slowly as he looks you up and down once more. “So, where were we? Oh yes, I remember now.” He moves to lay beside you, his hand reaching out with the strawberry to trace the same pattern of circular swirls on your breast before leaning over to torture your skin with his tongue. You swear he’s going even slower than before.

After what seems like an hour but couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes you finally feel the tip of his tongue brush against the edge of your nipple. Up ‘til now you’ve managed to be good but you can’t keep the small whimper from escaping or stop your arms from tensing and straining against the material.

It’s the first time you’ve tested its hold and physically knowing what you already knew intellectually has your body on fire. You also come to the realization that it’s becoming a very real and very embarrassing possibility that you may come without Misha ever getting to your very wet and aching core.

“Misha.” You can’t help it, you try, but the soft little whine escapes.

Eyes that are mostly pupil with just a touch of blue around the edges look up at you. Misha smirks before giving you the first kindness of this interaction. Rather than continue to tease your nipple with the feather light touches of before he seals his lips around the edges and sucks the tight bud in hard.

The cry that leaves your lips has you belatedly wondering how thin the hotel walls are but that thought quickly burns away in the fire that’s consuming you. He releases the suction with a soft popping sound before caressing you again with his tongue.

When he takes your nipple between his teeth and gently bites down Misha has to place a strong arm across your midsection to keep your body from bucking up into him. His mouth leaves your nipple briefly to slide to the pale flesh right beside it where he sucks and nips until you know there will be another dark mark blooming. Then he returns to torturing your nipple with alternating sucks and nips.

The ache building inside you has come dangerously close to peaking.

“Misha!” You’re trying desperately to form words around the gasps and cries. “Misha please!” Looking down you meet his lust blown eyes but he doesn’t stop. “Misha I’m too close, _please_!”

You breathe out a shuddering breath as his lips leave your skin.

“Gonna come for me just from that huh?” His voice is soft and playful. “Now, is that a testament to my skills or how easy it is to get you off? Personally, I like to think it’s my masterful skills.”

“It might also have to do with the fact that I’ve lost count of how many fucking times I’ve been on the verge of getting off and then not.” The edge in your voice surprises even you. Evidently you’re more frustrated than even _you_ realized.

“You know,” Misha’s fingers trail lightly over your belly, circling your navel. “You could have helped yourself. I’m sure a little play time in the shower would have had you all straightened out. Don’t tell me you didn’t even _think_ of touching yourself.”

“I did.” Your voice comes out smaller than you would have liked.

“So why didn’t you?” His fingers run along your side, slipping down your hip and then back up to move across to the other side. He leans into your ear so that his warm breath is moving across your skin and his lips are just barely brushing against you. “Why didn’t you take those lovely fingers of yours and slide them across your soapy wet body down to that beautiful pussy. I’m sure you would have been wet enough that your fingers would have slipped right in. You’ve been so amazingly wet for me all weekend. You would have been coming in no time.”

“For you.” You whisper it so quietly you aren’t sure if he even hears it.

“What was that?” His voice is so low and husky and right there in your ear, it sends delicious shivers down your spine.

“I...I was wet for _you._ I wanted to save _that_ for you.”

“That? What would _that_ be?” You can hear the humor in his voice and know that he’s fully aware of what you mean but he’s still going to make you say it. When you don’t immediately answer, his hand leaves your body and you feel the absence of his breath as he pulls away. The loss of his touch is almost painful.

“Come! I only wanted to come for you, from you.”

The low growl is the only warning you have before your lips are captured in a brutal onslaught of lips and teeth and tongue. When Misha pulls away you’re both left gasping for air. For just a second you get a glimpse of Misha looking as completely wrecked as you feel but then that smirk falls back into place as he slides backwards off the bed.

“Well then, I can’t disappoint my favorite fan.”

If you weren’t still weak from that devastating kiss you would have glared at him. He walks over to the other bed and grabs the last strawberry from the plate. When he nips the tip off you know he isn’t quite finished with this slow torture and you almost sob from frustration. He moves in front of you, his knees pushing between your legs, forcing them to open and expose your core.

He starts the trail of juice at your hip, running the strawberry down the outside of your thigh to just above your knee before moving on to your inner thigh. This time he follows the path with his tongue as he is drawing it. He drags the fruit, cold against your heated skin, up to just below your dripping center before circling around and over, dipping briefly into your navel before mirroring the path on your other leg.

You honestly didn’t realize how many swears you knew until they start pouring from your lips as Misha slows down on his trip back up your second leg. You feel a slight burn at your wrists as your arms take on a life of their own, pulling and tugging at the restraint to be able to reach Misha. The stubble on his cheek brushes against the overly sensitive skin of your outer labia and has you sucking in air like you’re starved for it.

“Fucking hell Misha, are you trying to kill me?” You manage to squeeze out between gritted teeth. Misha straightens up and you groan when you lose his touch again.

“The mouth on you!” The mock indignation on his face only fuels your frustration.

“Oh, you love the fucking mouth on me, especially when it’s around your cock. Now are you gonna get me off or should we see if Jensen can hop on a plane back?” You mumble under your breath that it would probably take less time. Your frustration dies a quick death when you see the dangerous glint that flashes in Misha’s eyes.

Remembering that his favorite punishment is taking away the thing you want the most, you instantly regret your words.

“Misha, I’m sorry.” He shrugs and nods his head as he turns away. “Misha please…” He walks to the bedside table to pick up his whiskey and takes a slow drink. “Misha I didn’t mean it.” With his back turned to you he gives an exaggerated stretch before taking another sip. “Misha please.” This last plea is barely a whisper.

Embarrassment floods your body when you feel tears spring to your eyes. You know that they’re tears of frustration but can’t stand how weak it makes you look to people who don’t know you.

Misha turns and looks you over with an appraising eye.

“You know, I doubt Jensen would be able to come back. I’m sure he’d love to but getting a turn around flight like that would be impossible, not to mention he’s filming tomorrow afternoon.” Misha pauses and appears to be turning this around in his head. “ _However_ I bet there are a few other cast members or hotel employees wandering around that would be all to happy to have a chance at that.” He gestures to your still spread legs and you suddenly feel more exposed than ever. “Why don’t I go track someone down for you.” As he starts walking toward the door panic slams into you as your vision whites out.

“Kale! Kale!” Your body starts shaking and you feel a sob building up inside of you. “Kale!” It takes you a minute to realise that Misha is now laying beside you one hand reaching up to hold your bound hands while the other pets your hair and the side of your face. He’s making soft soothing noises in your ear.

“You’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going. It’s just me here. Only me.”

The shaking starts to subside as you come back into yourself.

“I just...I can’t handle someone else, a stranger, here. Looking at me. Touching me. Not, not like this. Not now.” As the panic subsides you start to feel a little silly for safewording.

“I wouldn’t.” Misha’s still whispering in your ear. “I was just teasing, I promise.” As he speaks he places gentle kisses against your cheek and jaw. “I wouldn’t share you, no matter how much you pissed me off.” You feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “Tonight, you’re only mine to touch.”

Misha shifts to his elbow so that he can more easily look into your eyes. They’re back to their soft, comforting crystal blue. “Would you like me to untie you?” You pause briefly to consider this before shaking your head, your bottom lip pinned between your teeth. “Do you need more time or would you like to resume?” You swallow hard as you try to find your calm voice again.

“I’d like to resume,” you pause briefly, searching Misha’s face for clues “if that’s okay with you.”

“More than okay.” He gives you a great big eye crinkling, gummy smile and brushes away the hair that’s stuck to your sweaty forehead. Then in an instant his expression changes and it’s back to the hard, reprimanding look. His eyes go dark again.

“Now I’m going to let that one go because, frankly, I love when that sweet little innocent mouth of yours gets dirty, whether it's from bad language or my come.” He narrows his eyes and purses his lips. “Just make sure you’re a good little girl from now on.”

He slides off the bed once more and walks over to the table. His hand hovers briefly over the strawberry he’d been using but then moves over to his glass of whiskey. He dips a finger in to swirl the ice around before picking the whole glass up and sipping it.

Turning back to you, glass in hand, Misha walks over and stands between your legs once again. He slowly drops to his knees. When he see the relief that must be written all over your face he merely smirks before taking a big drink. He sets the glass down on the floor beside him and leans in, his hands sliding up your thighs. When his face is so close to your core that you can feel his warm breath you drop your head back down to the bed, knowing your release is so close.

Honestly you’re surprised you don’t come the second his lips brush against your folds, the way everything in your body snaps to. When he nudges at your clit with his nose it takes every fiber of your being to not wrap your legs around his head to pull him in close.

Warning bells go off in the back of your fuzzy brain when you first feel a trickle of liquid dripping down your slit. It’s not cold but it isn’t anywhere near as warm as body temperature. You lift your head up just enough to meet Misha’s eyes, which lock onto yours.

When the cold ice brushes your clit your body nearly bucks Misha away from you. He probably would have been pushed away if his hands hadn’t gripped down on your thighs, his fingertips digging into your flesh.

“Fuck me! Misha you ass-” Your protestations are cut off immediately as he swirls the ice cube around your overly sensitive clit. The air seems to leave your body as it deals with the conflicting sensations going on in your nether region. It’s a battle of feelings, the slippery warmth of your flowing slick, the soft brush of Misha’s lips, the rough scrape of his facial hair and of course the intense cold of the ice that Misha had secreted into his mouth.

It doesn’t take any time at all for the ice to melt and the transition from cold to the warmth of Misha’s mouth is possibly the most amazing feeling you’ve ever experienced. And oh that mouth. Normally you might fault a guy for zeroing in on the clit so quickly but between all the stimulation you’ve had in the last hour and all the frustration and build up from the day you are so grateful that he appears to be done wasting time.

Misha slides the tip of his tongue slowly from your clit down to your dripping hole. When he pushes his tongue just a little inside you, you’re certain that you’re done for. You can feel the waves of your orgasm beginning to crest.

When he removes his tongue and pulls away just slightly there are actual tears forming in your eyes. He mutters softly, close enough for you to feel the movement of his lips but not so close that you can get any friction from them.

“I knew you would taste even better when I could get it straight from the source.” When you start wiggling and whimpering his voice takes on an edge. “Look at me little girl.”

You struggle, as your body is becoming weak with need, but you manage to lift your head enough to do as you’re told.

“I know you’re so ready for this. I know it’s been such a long time to wait. You’ve done so well holding out, saving yourself for me. But I want to to hold on just a little bit longer.” He pauses, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re not to come until I say so. Do you understand?”

You want so badly to curse at him, to scream about how you’ve waited long enough, to demand that he release your hands so that you can take care of your situation for yourself. Instead you merely nod weakly before dropping your head back down to the bed.

Misha moves his mouth back down to your folds and purrs against them “Good girl.” before parting them once again with his tongue.

He returns to the slow torture of your clit and the waves are back threatening once again. You distract yourself by concentrating on your breathing, trying to slow your heart rate. This seems to be effective as Misha focuses his attention on the swollen bundle of nerves, alternating between soft flicks with the tip of his tongue and forceful sucking that occasionally involves teeth.

That is the hardest. When the heady combination of pleasure and pain shoots through you it takes everything to maintain focus. You know you are in for a whole ‘nother battle when you feel Misha’s hand slide down from your thigh.

When the first of his long fingers begins to slide into you, you bite down on your lip to try and distract yourself from the almost painful coil of heat that is tearing up your belly. He gives a few testing thrusts with the first finger and must decide that you are plenty ready for more as he slips in a second. They both slide easily in, the almost perpetual flow of moisture easing their way. The sounds that start coming from your lips are almost embarrassing they’re so pathetic. There might even be some begging in there but you aren’t sure.

You probably could have used a little bit more stretching but the burn you feel as Misha slips a third finger inside you only adds to the mounting pressure. He begins pumping a little faster, the flicks of his tongue matching pace.

Your whole body is straining in place as you try to keep yourself from thrashing about but when Misha curls his fingers inside you and hits that incredibly over-sensitive rough patch along your slick wall it becomes too much.

You know you can’t last much longer and the sensation is becoming overwhelming. You start squirming away, trying to escape the exquisite torture. You’re certain now that you’re begging but you aren’t even sure what the words coming out of your mouth are.

Everything slams into focus, however, when Misha’s free hand slides off your thigh and onto the bed beside you. It takes but a second for you to remember what’s there and the threats that he had made about what he would do with the belt.

“No! No Misha, I’m sorry! I’ll be good, I promise.” You use the momentary focus to take back control of your body. You feel tears streaming down your face and your breathing has become much more difficult. Misha appears to decide to have mercy because instead of following through on his threats he slides his hand back onto your body and lays his arm across the top of your pelvis, holding you in place.

You feel the waves starting to crash again and you feel devastated because you know you can’t do what Misha asks. There’s no more holding back.

You aren’t sure if he felt your walls beginning to clench down on his fingers or if it was the change in your cries or if he’s just really that fucking good but it’s at that moment that you hear the most beautiful words he has ever spoken rumble against your molten core.

“Come for me little girl.”

You’re pretty damn sure that everyone on the floor can hear the scream that erupts from you as the first white hot wave of sensation flows over you. Misha continues to move inside you to milk your orgasm.

You don’t know if it’s Misha’s skill or if it’s because you’re finally getting the release you need but you have never had an orgasm this powerful. Your whole body twists and shakes with every new burst. Your pussy is spasming mercilessly around Misha’s fingers, a flood of come pouring out.

As your orgasm begins to slow and fade you’re immensely confused to find yourself sobbing. Misha helps you ride out the rest of your orgasm before he stands, one hand remaining on your thigh as he reaches for the bottle of water. He slides up to sit near your head, his hand sliding up your body as he does, never breaking contact.

“Here sweetie, drink for me please.” His hand slides up your neck and around to the back of your head to help you lift it. When the first trickle of water hits your lips you realize you feel like you’re dying of thirst. You suck the water down greedily and make a small whining noise in your throat when the bottle is pulled away.

“Not too fast love. Don’t want to get sick.” Misha sets the bottle aside before sliding his hands up your arms to the ties at your wrists. He carefully unknots the fabric and helps you lower your arms. He helps you move them around to get circulation flowing again before he examines your wrists. You hear him sigh and see his head shake from the corner of your eye.

“I shouldn’t have done this without the necessary things for after care. These really should be cleaned and have some cream applied. I’m sorry sweetie.” The hysterical little giggle that escapes you has Misha looking all sorts of confused.

“My bag.” You can’t lift your arms to point and you’re amazed you’re putting words together. Instead you gesture with your head, pointing out your con bag that is sitting on top of your suitcase. “They don’t call me con mom for nothing. There’s a first aid kit in there.”

Misha leans down and brushes his lips against yours, the taste of you still there causing another small spasm to shoot through you.

“I’ll be right back.” When he completely disconnects from you for the first time you hold on tight to those words to chase the empty feeling away. You hear a little bit of rustling and a little bit of cursing and a lot of questioning how much stuff one person needs.

You turn your head to watch as he stands and walks to the bathroom. You hear water running briefly before he returns. When the warm soothing cloth touches your wrists you can’t help but sigh. Misha tends to the light friction burns before he starts repositioning you. When you realize that he’s tucking you in you begin to protest.

“Misha no, I’m not ready to be done.” You try to put force behind your words but in your spent state you just can’t manage it. Misha hushes you and places a soft kiss on your forehead before sliding the blanket out from under you and pulling it up over you.

“Just a nap. You’re exhausted. Somnophilia may have its place but I prefer a more alert partner when I’m ready to fuck their brains out.” You groan at the visual and if your whole body wasn’t agreeing with him with every fiber you would definitely insist on him following through on that.

“A short nap. Half hour, tops” you murmur against your pillow, your eyes already beginning to drift shut. The last thing you say as the darkness takes you is a threat against Misha if he takes your cheesecake.


	8. Skype-us Interruptus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend draws to a close. Will it end with a whimper or a bang?

Your pillow just moved.

That’s what it was, what woke you from a sound sleep. As the cobwebs clear from your sleep addled brain the dull ache in your shoulders and arms bring your thoughts into sharp focus. You lay still to collect your thoughts, the first one wondering what exactly is weighing down across your side and torso.

When your ‘pillow’ shifts again it becomes pretty clear. At some point while you slept Misha must have sat down on the bed next to you. Cracking an eye you take in your surroundings. The room is dimly lit by the table lamp that is behind you. Misha’s sitting propped against the headboard. Your head is nestled into the curve where his lap meets his upper body and his arm is draped over you and the blanket.

You spot his phone on the bed just in front of you. The way it's haphazardly discarded makes you think he had been holding it in his hand and had fallen asleep unintentionally. You slowly snake your hand out from under the blanket to reach for the phone, doing your best not to disturb Misha’s arm. You hit the power button to wake it and check the time and have to fight to suppress a groan. The clock reads 1:17AM. Definitely much longer than the half hour you had told Misha.

Thinking of him brings your thoughts back to the warm figure beneath your head. From your limited view you can tell he had changed at some point. He’s wearing loose jogging pants, the material soft beneath your skin.

It’s about that point that your body and brain both realize how close your face is to Misha’s groin. As the warm heat inside you starts to glow back into existence you get what you think is a deliciously wicked idea. Misha can thank himself for planting it in your head with his earlier comment.

Doing your best to move slowly and cautiously, you lift your head just a fraction before sliding your free hand to the waistband of Misha’s pants. As you gently tug it down you are unsurprised to find that he isn’t wearing underwear, the dark curls surrounding Misha’s currently soft cock coming into view.

When Misha shifts slightly, you pause to see if he is waking. When he doesn’t move again you continue tugging the material until you are granted full access. You lick your lips to make them slick before slowly moving your head down. When your lips are a hairsbreadth away you stop to take a deep breath before plunging forward, taking him entirely into your mouth.

The sharp gasp let’s you know that you’ve succeeded in your mission to wake Misha. You feel the hand resting on your midsection slide to the back of your head, fingers wrapping in your hair. The corners of your mouth curl slightly before you begin to slide your lips up the length of Misha’s quickly hardening cock. The soft moans you hear encourage you and you begin to suck in earnest, while keeping your pace leisurely. You hear Misha’s deep sleep blurred voice above you.

“Well, that’s certainly preferable to an alarm clock.” 

You feel the hand in your hair slide back down to wrap around your shoulders before you feel a gentle tug. Begrudgingly you let Misha’s erection slide out of your mouth with a soft pop before allowing yourself to be pulled up to a sitting position, resting in the crook of his arm. He looks down at you with sleepy eyes and chuckles at the pout forming on your lips.

“Let me just take care of that.” He leans down and brushes his lips against yours before pulling back to smile down at you. He reaches down and shifts his pants back up. You give him an accusatory glare.

“You were supposed to wake me in a half hour. It’s been more than two hours.”

“Well I didn’t  _ mean _ to fall asleep. Besides you really needed sleep. I was perfectly content with spending the rest of the night holding you.” 

Getting frustrated that he isn’t understanding your point and slightly embarrassed that you have to spell it out you look down at your hand, which is resting next to the nest of curls that are peaking out above Misha’s tented pants.

“That’s all well and good but there was still something  _ I _ wanted.” Misha’s free hand reaches over to tilt your chin up so that your eyes meet his.

“And what was that?” 

You smirk at him before quickly sliding out of his grasp and off the bed.

“Cheesecake!” 

Belatedly you remember that you fell asleep buck ass naked but you merely shrug at Misha’s appraising stare and walk to the fridge. You dig out one of the pieces of cheesecake and grab a fork from the room service tray and take a large bite. You chew slowly and swallow before meeting Misha’s stare again, noting as you do that his pants are still impressively tented.

“Of course I also want you to fuck me hard ‘til I can’t see straight.” 

How you manage to keep a totally neutral expression you have no idea. Misha, however, fails to do so and the intense hunger that springs to his eyes would have done you in had you had time to think.

Instead in a flurry of motion Misha springs from the bed and has your wrists locked in his hands, the tight grip rubbing against the friction burns and causing tingles of pain and pleasure to shoot through you. Before you know it he has you spun around and flat on your back against the bed, your cheesecake flying to the floor.

“My cheesecake!” You manage a pitiful, not entirely convincing whine. 

Misha blankets you with his body, his face and inch from yours.

“I’ll share mine.” He growls out before his tongue flicks out to lick the crumbs from your lips. 

Then his mouth is on yours in a bruising, end-of-the-world, who-needs-air kiss that has every part of your body on fire. When he pulls away it’s way too soon and you instinctively begin to rise up to chase his mouth down but he places a firm hand against your chest and presses you back to the mattress.

With one knee between your legs he pushes himself up slightly before bringing the hand he’s still gripping to his lips. He runs the tip of his tongue around your middle and index finger before sucking them in between his soft, plush lips. He continues to swirl his tongue around your fingers, eliciting obscene moans from your mouth as you remember what he had been doing with that same tongue not that long ago, before sliding them back out. As he pushes off the bed he gently tugs your hand with him before letting it fall where it lands just below your navel.

“Why don’t you get started for me?” 

There’s a question to his tone and a smile on his face but his eyes let you know it isn’t really a request. A familiar flush starts to creep up as Misha settles against the dresser. His hand rests against his shoulder at the collar of his shirt, indicating he plans to at least start undressing but he doesn’t move to do so as he waits. 

You get the idea that until you do what he wants you aren’t getting what  _ you  _ want. Knowing you can’t let that happen you squeeze your eyes shut to stave off some of the embarrassment as you slide your hand down.

“Oh no, little girl.” You hear the deep rumble of Misha’s voice. “Eyes on me, unless of course you can’t handle it.”

Sucking in a breath as the heat of embarrassment is replaced by the burn of challenge that flares up, you force your eyes open and meet Misha’s unwavering gaze. With purpose now, you slip your hand the rest of the way down to the top of your slit. 

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down as you slip further still, your body trembling when your spit slicked fingers first brush against your already sensitive clit. It’s still slightly swollen from the earlier attention and you hesitate briefly. However when you see Misha smirk as he notes the hesitation, your resolve is solidified. 

That doesn’t stop the moan from escaping your lips as your fingers drag roughly over your clit in their hurry to get to your already damp core. As you slide your middle finger inside, your thumb gently working at your clit, you note with satisfaction the tent in Misha’s pants begin to twitch.

As you slowly pump your fingers you watch Misha, whose eyes are flitting from yours down to your glistening fingers and back up again. He reaches up with both hands to grab the back of his shirt to pull it up and over his head. It occurs to you that this is the first time you’ve actually seen him without a shirt. The absurdity of that makes you giggle, but only internally, as doing so out loud would prove disastrous for you. You doubt you could handle this night ending without Misha buried to the hilt inside you.

Heat starts to build as you admire Misha’s bare torso. His arms and chest are firm, the muscles taut as he pulls his shirt off. You feel a spike of arousal as you remember all the times you’ve felt that strength, supporting you, lifting you, pressing you down. Your eyes drift down to his midsection a touch of softness just barely showing above the sharp lines of the hip bones that are peaking out from beneath his pants.

With his eyes still on your ministrations Misha drops his shirt and grips his waistband before sliding his pants down, his erection springing free, the head dark red and shining with precome. You continue to let your eyes wander while still paying attention to what your own body is doing, backing off a little when you feel like you might be a touch too close.

Your eyes continue their downward path, admiring Misha’s strong runners thighs that taper into defined calves. When you hear a soft chuckle your eyes shoot back up to meet sparkling blue eyes.

“Like what you see?”

Misha’s inviting lips curve into a smug grin that has you just aching to make a smart ass response. Instead a more urgent ache wins out.

“Why don’t you come over here and feel how much I like it?” The want in your voice makes it almost unrecognizable.

The grin slips from Misha’s face and is replaced by naked lust as he takes the two short steps and reaches out a hand to join yours. A single thick finger joins yours as they slide in, the unexpected stretch causing a slight burn. Misha moans as he withdraws his finger, dripping with your wetness. He brings it to his lips and licks every bit off, his eyes drifting shut as he does.

When Misha drops to his knees between your legs your arms fly out in panic to grab at his shoulders.

“No Misha!” Your hands grasp at anything to find purchase as you sit up, realizing belatedly that you are coating one of Misha’s shoulders in wetness. Misha pauses, looking up at you with an eyebrow quirked.

“Do I need to tie you back up?” His voice is low and dangerous, clearly displeased at being denied what he was after. 

For a moment you struggle to find your voice but when you remember the thoughts that slammed into you when he made it clear what he was doing you find your resolve again.

“No, no! It’s not that! It’s just that there’s  _ always _ something that comes up. I’m done waiting. I’m done with foreplay. I’m ready enough. Please, Misha, I just want you to fuck me.” 

You’re not ashamed to admit the last bit came out a little bit more pleading than you intended. At this point you’re not above begging. You just know if you wait any longer someone is going to fall asleep, or there will be a call or a knock on the door.

When Misha doesn’t respond, his face still an unreadable mask, you reach up to cup his face, aware enough to not use the two fingers that are still slightly damp.

“Please.” At this point your voice is barely above a whisper.

Misha slowly rises to his feet in front of you, his face hard, that damn eyebrow raised. You drop your hands to your lap in defeat, preparing to be denied, your eyes closing to hide the tears of frustration that are gathering. When you feel Misha’s calloused hand gently cup your cheek you open your eyes and look up to meet his.

“You know I can’t deny you anything when you beg.” His voice is soft and kind as he wipes away a tear that’s spilled from your eye with his thumb. 

He slides his hand back to your hair and seeks out the pins that are barely holding the twisted mess up, tugging gently to release them. Then he takes a step back and the hardness returns to his eyes.

“Move over to the other bed. Get on your hands and knees facing the desk.” 

The firm directive has you choking back a whimper as you scramble to do as he says, trying not to think about how ungraceful your movements are. As you settle into position, focusing on finding the most supportive angle for your limbs rather than how exposed you are, you feel Misha’s warm breath ghost over your cheek.

“See, I couldn’t decide  _ how _ I wanted to fuck you. Pounding into you from behind as your legs and arms tremble beneath you is wonderfully appealing. On the other hand I  _ really  _ want to see that beautiful face of yours, flush and dripping with sweat as I fill you over and over, those lips begging me to let you come.” His hand comes into your peripheral vision before gripping your jaw to angle your face up. “This,” you see him nod in the mirror over the desk that is reflecting the two of you back in perfect clarity “is the best of both worlds. Plus it has the added bonus of being able to see you break as you watch me fuck you.”

Misha releases your chin and turns to walk to the nightstand between the bed. You assume, or maybe hope is the more accurate word, that he’s retrieving the condoms that he had evidently moved over there with the whiskey. Instead he moves back to the other bed to pick up his phone from where you’d discarded it earlier. Watching over your shoulder, it’s your turn to raise a questioning eyebrow.

“Too beautiful to pass up.” He taps his phone then holds it up and it clicks what he’s up to a moment before the flash goes off.

“Really? Another?” You frown, your nose scrunching up.

“Yes another!” Misha grins as he taps his phone again and the flash goes off.

Sighing, you flop down onto the bed and wail into the blanket “I’m never getting fucked.”

Something small lands on the bed next to your head before a much heavier weight dips the mattress by your legs. The weight shifts between your legs and warm skin presses against your ass as an arm snakes under your midsection. You’re roughly pulled up into a kneeling position, your backside molded against a whole lot of hot flesh. Misha’s hard cock is pressing rather insistently at the crack of your ass.

Looking up into the mirror you can’t stop the tremor that shoots through you at the sight, Misha’s arm curled possessively around you, his fingers digging into the flesh covering your ribs. He uses his free hand to slide your hair to one side before dipping his head down.

“You.”

He kisses your shoulder.

“Are so.”

His tongue drags along your collarbone up to the tender skin at the spot where shoulder meets neck and there is already a light bruise marring the skin.

“Impatient.”

The white hot combination of of pain and pure bliss that shoots through you as Misha sucks the skin into his mouth and bites down nearly has your knees buckling. The sounds that come out of your mouth would probably embarrass you if you were in any state to give a damn. 

As the arm wrapped around you slides away a hand is pressed to your back, pushing you back down to your hands and knees. Your eyes drift closed as you feel the rough scratch of stubble brush against you your skin and soft kisses are pressed along the length of your spine.

The pressing of flesh leaves your legs as the kisses move lower, brushing just at the swell of your ass. Each cheek is covered with the same feather light kisses that have you fighting the urge to push back into Misha.

Your eyes fly open when the next kiss you anticipate is instead a stinging smack.

“Keep your eyes open.” Misha’s voice is low and harsh. “I told you, I want to watch you watch yourself get fucked. Do you understand?” 

Biting down hard on your lip you force yourself to meet Misha’s eyes in the mirror and give a shaky nod. You maintain eye contact but see out of your peripheral as his hand moves toward you right before you feel a testing finger slide between your folds. Apparently Misha is happy with what he feels because he withdraws his finger and leans over to grab the box of condoms.

Thankfully he must have opened them while you were in the shower so he doesn’t have to waste time opening the box. You watch as he pulls a condom out and tears it open, discarding the rest of the box onto the floor. His nimble fingers make quick work of the packaging and you assume he rolls it on, since you can’t see from this angle. You don’t have to see anything to know that he’s more than ready though when you feel the head of his cock nudge at your entrance. His hands gently grip at your hips and he holds himself there. When he speaks his voice is gentle and open.

“Are you sure you want it rough?”

It takes everything in you not to slam yourself down onto him. You may have gone ahead and done that if his hands hadn’t been on your hips. You barely manage a strangled “yes” between gritted teeth.

That’s all it takes though. One moment you’re empty and wanting and the next Misha’s pushed into you, filling you and bottoming out in one quick hard stroke. The cry that leaves your lips comes both from the shock and burn of not quite being ready and pure ecstasy at finally having Misha inside you. You see the brief flash of concern in Misha’s eyes as he watches you but when he sees the pure rapture on your face it quickly dissipates.

His fingers tighten painfully on your hips as he slowly slides out, almost leaving you completely. When he pauses briefly you can’t stop the little whine that comes from your throat. Thankfully Misha doesn’t seem to be in the mood to tease and he quickly slams back home. You grip the fabric below you tightly to keep yourself from flying forward as Misha picks up a brutal pace. 

Both of you let out a string of curses when the phone that’s laying a few inches from your hand starts playing a little tune. You still can’t believe it though when Misha’s pace slows and you feel him shifting to reach for the phone.

“Misha I swear to God if you answer that fucking phone-”

“It’s Jensen.”

Two little words. Two little words and all the nerves are crashing back into you. Technically you anticipated  _ something _ naughty with this call but you figured, maybe a flash of skin or even a little on screen action but not quite  _ this  _ much action. You’re poised to protest but when you meet Misha’s questioning gaze you find yourself neither wanting him to stop nor wanting to deny Jensen his thank you gift. Your voice is barely a whisper when you speak.

“Answer it.”

You watch Misha as he answers, his hips just barely twitching back and forth. He holds the phone up to his face when he speaks.

“Hey Jensen, wonderful timing.”

“ _ Sorry it’s so late, the flight was a little delayed and then I had to wait for Jared to go take a bathroom break. Should be gone a while though.” _

“You’ve got your headphones in, does that mean you aren’t alone?” Another flick of the hips has you whimpering as quietly as you can since it seems Misha isn’t quite ready to reveal the current situation.

_ “I’m alone in the lounge for the time being. It’s pretty dead here. We board our connection in about thirty minutes.” _

“Great, I wouldn’t want to torture you too much by showing you this if you had company.” With that Misha moves the phone and you can tell by the angle he’s panning the view down towards where he’s ever so slowly sliding in and out of you. 

Once he has the angle he’s after he starts his punishing pace again. The groan you hear from the phone only serves to increase your arousal, your nerves from before completely forgotten.

“ _ Fuck Mish, if I had known you had this in mind I would have found a bathroom or something. These pants are fucking painful.” _

_ “ _ Use your...fucking...jacket…” You manage to gasp out between thrusts.

_ “Did she just? Is she insane?” _

“Very likely, she  _ is _ here with me and letting you watch.” Misha chuckles before burying himself inside you with a moan. He leans forward to hold the phone in front of your face. Jensen’s face looks back at you, a cross between arousal and frustration.

“Unless you’re too scared.” You purr at the phone, a saccharine sweet smile on your face. A short snap of Misha’s hips has you jostling forward with a soft cry, your eyes slipping closed.

“ _ Fuck me.” _ You hear things being jostled about momentarily. You open your eyes just in time to see Jensen’s green eyes become shuttered.

_ “ _ Whatcha doin’ Jensen?” You can’t manage the feigned innocence as your smile creeps back.

_ “You know  _ exactly _ what I’m doing little girl.”  _ Jensen scowls at you.

“Show me.” You can tell Jensen’s on the verge of refusing when you lick your lips. 

The sight clearly has the desired effect because the view of the phone changes to see crumpled fabric. Something is moving under it and the phone adjusts again to move the fabric just enough for you to see Jensen’s free hand working a pretty impressive erection of his own. The view is quickly obscured by the fabric again before it returns to Jensen’s face.

“ _ Happy?” _

“Very.” 

Misha thrusts into you again, causing a groan that’s echoed by Jensen as he watches you. Misha’s free hand leaves your hip only to wrap around your waist and tug you back up against him, his cock still buried halfway inside you. He holds the phone out in front so that both of your faces are in the little thumbnail down below.

“Hold onto me little girl.” He whispers into your ear. You reach your hands behind you, to grasp at Misha’s hips for support. Misha’s free arm wraps over one arm, pinning it against you. He reaches up to caress the side of your face.

“Look at this face, Jen. These eyes, she can use them to tear you down with just a glance but you should see them when they’re begging. It’s exquisite.” His hand moves to brush fingers over your parted lips.

“These lips, they are perfection.” He slips two fingers between your lips. Following his unspoken instructions you swirl your tongue around them before closing your mouth to suck hard on his fingers. You keep your eyes locked on the screen, watching Jensen as his brow furrows and his jaw tenses.

“I woke up to the glorious feeling of these beautiful lips wrapped around my cock.” 

He drags his fingers out from between your lips, coating them in  moisture before moving his hand back to rest in your hair. He wraps his fingers in it and tugs sharply, forcing you to tilt your head and expose the side of your neck with the fresh mark, already deeper in color than the rest.

“Look at what she allows me to do. Look at how beautifully my mark blooms against her skin.” 

Misha leans in to kiss and lick at the very tender skin, eliciting yet another moan. Misha taps the corner of the phone in his hand with his thumb and the little square in the bottom corner changes to reflect the full image of your reflection in the mirror..

“ _ Shit Mish.”  _

The tension in Jensen’s voice might be funny if it didn’t shoot straight your core. You hear a soft grunt from behind you when your walls tighten unexpectedly around Misha. You’d love to give your hips a wiggle to try and get him to repeat the yummy sound but it would mean chancing him pulling out completely and you don’t think you could take that loss.

Misha’s hand drifts down from your chin, along your neck, down to cup the bottom of your breast, his fingers teasing and rolling your nipple to hardness.

“Her breasts are so soft Jensen, so smooth. And her nipples are so very responsive and sensitive. You should have seen it, I almost made her come just by licking and sucking on these. Oh and  _ biting _ , can’t forget that. Our little girl seems to enjoy a bit of rough play.”

Your eyes, which had been hyper focused on Jensen’s face, flash up to meet Misha’s in the mirror. His eyes don’t meet yours though as he’s too busy watching his hand on your body. You’re momentarily startled by the use of the word our, not even sure if it was something Misha was conscious of. But as far as you can gather, at this moment, Misha’s sharing the possession of you with Jensen and you just can’t bring yourself to be upset by this.

The brief moment of tension melts away as Misha continues to play with your pebbled nipple. The frustrated whine that escapes you draws yet another chuckle from Misha.

“She’s also  _ very _ impatient. Poor girl’s been begging me to fuck her for quite some time now. Well, I think her exact words were to fuck her hard.” You watch as Jensen squeezes his eyes shut and speaks through gritted teeth.

“ _ This is so not fair.” _  Misha’s hand stills on what had started to be a downward path.

“Oh I’m sorry! Are we keeping you? I’d be happy to hang up and finish what you interrupted if you aren’t interested.” 

You can’t help but grin at seeing someone else on the receiving end of Misha’s teasing. 

_ “Fuck you, Misha.” _ Jensen’s face forms a snarl before it melts into a chagrined expression. “ _ No, don’t hang up.” _

“Alrighty then, where were we? Oh yes, I remember.” 

Misha’s hand resumes its downward trajectory, you body spasming slightly as he brushes against an extremely ticklish spot. Misha winks at the mirror, presumably to Jensen.

“I found that spot when we were laying in the grass, the first time she got me hard as a rock without even trying.” 

Smirking when he sees you glaring at him he moves on, down to another entirely different sensitive spot. His fingers brush the top of your slit and you swear Jensen leans into the phone, his breathing just a touch more labored than it had been.

You forget all about this though as Misha’s finger slips between your folds and caresses your clit. It’s all you can do to keep gripping at Misha’s hips instead of falling forward onto the bed. Misha slips down further and brushes against the stretched flesh surrounding his cock, gathering some of the moisture. He pulls away his fingers and reaches up to hold them in front of the camera, giving it a moment to focus.

“Look how wet she is Jen. She’s always so perfectly wet for me. And she tastes divine.” Misha moves his hand back behind the phone toward your heads. You assume he’s planning on moving towards his own mouth but instead he brushes the slick fingers against your lips, prodding at them and demanding access. 

You open for him and when you see the heat flare in Jensen’s eyes you begin to lick and suck greedily at Misha’s fingers, cleaning every last drop of your moisture from them. Misha leans in, his voice a low purr in your ear.

“Good girl. I think you’re ready for your reward.” Misha taps the phone again and the image is once again of your faces. “I’m going to give the phone to her. You tell her what you want, I’m sure she’ll be happy to provide it. I, on the other hand, will be a little too busy.” Misha wraps his arm around your waist, allowing your arms which had begun to shake with strain to release as he supports your weight. He hands you the phone, which you take with trembling fingers, before he slowly lowers you back to the bed.

You support your weight with one hand while you hold the phone in the other. Licking your lips nervously you manage to get out a single question.

“What do you want Jen-” You aren’t even able to finish saying his name as Misha slams home, filling you completely once again and causing the air to woosh out of your body, your eyes squeezing shut as a second thrust has Misha angling to put pressure on your sweet spot. When you open them you see green eyes staring intently at you.

“ _ I want to watch your face as you fall apart. Lay the phone down on the bed so you can use both arms. And sweetheart? Don’t you dare take your eyes off of me.”  _

Hearing the firm commanding tone of Jensen’s voice for the first time has you clenching down hard on Misha as he thrusts in again. You hear a muffled ‘fuck’ from behind and know he felt it. Jensen had been firm before but there was still a gentleness to it, something that was missing entirely from his voice now.

You settle the phone on the bed, doing your best in your current state to make sure your face is still centered. Seeing that you’re fully supporting yourself now Misha takes this as his cue and begins fucking you in earnest, each withdrawal almost completely emptying you while each thrust bottoms out, his hips grinding against your ass.

One hand slides forward along the curve of your back before reaching the strands of your hair. His fingers bury themselves against your skull before twisting gently. It’s the only warning you get before you feel your hair roughly pulled, forcing your face up to look into the mirror and meet Misha’s lust blown eyes.

“Let’s not forget, I want to see your face when I fuck you little girl.” His voice is a possessive growl.

“Fucking hell, how the fuck am I supposed to please the both of you?” Your frustrated outburst earns you another sharp tug of your hair and a particularly rough thrust of Misha’s cock.

“ _ You think it’s tough now? Imagine if we were both there. Oh babe, the things we would do to you to get your attention.”  _ The only response you can muster is a weak little whimper. “ _ Hey Mish. Don’t be an ass. You get her body, let me see her face.” _

Slowly you feel the fingers retract from your hair and you can’t help feeling a little bit disappointed at the loss. You let your head hang back down so your face is once again framed in the phone.

As he finds his rhythm Misha starts hitting the rough patch of skin inside you on almost every other thrust. Between that and the view of Jensen’s lust blown eyes, lip firmly between perfect white teeth, you feel the low embers of heat that have been burning in your belly flare to life. 

Each thrust brings your body closer to collapse, your arms shaking, sweat beginning to drip from your body. No one’s speaking, the only sounds are the moans coming from both you and Misha and the sound of sweat slicked flesh slapping together. You feel your eyes beginning to close as waves of heat course through you.

“ _ Oh no sweetheart, right here.” _  Your eyes snap open and you nod your acknowledgement, words being beyond you, or so you thought. But as Misha’s fingers dig into your hips, pressing into the already bruising flesh you find words.

“Oh god Misha, I’m so close. Please, please let me come.” 

You see Jensen’s lips moving and hear what you think are swears but the blood rushing in your ears makes it fuzzy. Misha, however, heard him loud and clear.

“Isn’t she so good? She asks for permission.” You expect to hear smugness in his voice but instead you hear only absolute adoration. “Yes little girl, you can come whenever you’re ready.” To add weight to what he says Misha slides one hand across your slick skin to reach beneath you, his long fingers finding your clit. As he continues to fuck you at a bruising pace his fingers massage your clit expertly and within moments you find yourself staring into eyes that are almost black with just a ring of green as your whole body spasms and your face contorts with the force of your orgasm. As you clench down hard around Misha he moans loudly before abandoning your clit to return to his grip on your hip.

Three more hard thrusts and you feel Misha’s hips stutter before he buries himself deep and stays. You feel the warmth as he fills the condom, his cock twitching inside you, causing the last wave of your orgasm to peak once more before dying. As things become slightly clearer you notice Jensen’s very flushed. You whisper to the phone.

“Are you close Jen? Are  _ you _ gonna come for me?” 

You feel Misha slip out from inside you and you let your body fall to the bed bonelessly, your face propped up on folded arms. A small part of you knows that you’re going to be embarrassed later but in your post orgasm euphoria your words are emboldened and you can speak to Jensen in a way you doubt you ever could other wise.

Misha settles down next to you and picks up the phone, draping the other arm across your back and resting his chin on your shoulder. He holds the phone so that the both of you are in frame.

“She asked you a question Jensen, I think she’s earned a response.” The words are firm but the tone has resumed it light teasing tone. 

“ _ Fuck...yes, okay? Yes.”  _ The tension in Jensen’s face looks ready to snap. What little neck and shoulder area you can see is straining, the vein pronounced and throbbing. His eyes squeeze shut. Wanting to further explore this new feeling of power towards Jensen you echo his words back to him.

“Oh no sweetheart, right here.” 

Green eyes snap open with a flare of something primal at you throwing his words back at him. It has your heart racing at the thought of what he would have done had he been in the same room. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared. You lick your lips before continuing on, some of the nerves returning to flutter low in your belly.

“Good. Where would you like to come if you were here?” You do your best to keep your voice low and suggestive. “So many options.”

Misha nuzzles at your neck, his nose and lips soft against your skin before being replaced with tongue and gentle nips. You hear him speaking softly against your skin, words like ‘so good’ and ‘amazing’ but you’re hyper focused on the screen. Jensen was so kind to you, you’ll be damned if you leave him more wanting than you have to. As you continue you feel Misha’s hand tighten across your shoulders, his fingers digging in slightly.

“I’d let you come where ever you wanted Jensen. You were so good to me. Would you come on my tits? Maybe my face? Would you rather I swallowed it all down when you came in my mouth? There is of course my pussy. Misha seemed to enjoy coming there. He’s told you all about my pussy, hasn’t he Jensen? What it feels like when I’m all wet and warm and ready for him.” 

You pause to take a deep breath to fortify yourself, unsure how either men will react to your next words but you had a hunch about the level of competitiveness there and hoped it would be enough to push Jensen over the edge, even if it did earn you a little punishment from Misha.

“Or  _ maybe _ you want to come where Misha’s never been? Get there first? Would you like to come as you fucked my ass, Jensen?” You hear a sharp intake of breath next to your ear.”It’s pretty tight, been awhile since I’ve had anyone fuck me there. You could spread me open and fill me up.” 

It’s right around the word spread that you see Jensen tense up further before shuddering hard and stilling.

“Did you come for me Jen?” 

You let your expression be open and honest, the need to know you pleased him enough to get him off written all over your face. His voice is gruff and quiet when he responds, but he maintains eye contact the whole time.

“ _ Yeah, all over my fucking jacket. You’ve got no idea how mad I am that I’m not there right now. Fuck.”  _

You repress a giggle, knowing it wouldn’t be appreciated at this moment. You watch as Jensen shifts around, clearly uncomfortable with the sticky mess he’s made. You’re about to make a comment about helping him clean it off next time to help him forget the discomfort when you hear the distant sound of a door shutting.

_ “Hey Jen, whatcha watching?”  _  There’s just a moment of panic that flashes in Jensen’s eyes when the door first sounds but it dissipates quickly when he looks up. 

“ _ Porn _ ,  _ what do you think?”   _

You damn near choke on the held back gasp when he says that, your face heating up. You watch as Jensen removes the earbuds from his ears and you assume pulls them from the headphone jack.

“ _ I’m talking to Misha.” _  You barely manage to squirm away from Misha and out of view of the camera before Jared’s face pops into view pressed against Jensen’s.

“ _ Hey Misha! What the hell man! I thought you were too  _ tired _ to fly back with us tonight. Why are you still awake?” _

“I don’t appreciate your accusatory tone, Jared. Here I was being kind and keeping Jensen company while you take a dump and this is the thanks I get? Just imagine all the trouble he could have gotten into in his sleep deprived state.” You jam your fist against your mouth, careful to avoid jostling Misha or slipping into frame, to muffle the giggle threatening to blow your cover.

Jared’s loud belly laugh has you fighting to suppress your own, it’s warmth infectious.

_ “Right, because  _ you _ are the prime example of staying out of trouble. Did you know that people were even tweeting Gen and Danneel to try and figure out who your mystery girl was?” _

The held back laugh died quickly in your throat and you swear the nerves in your stomach were spinning three sixties. 

_ “But seriously Misha, when are you going to tell us about your friend? I’m kinda hurt man. It’s not like you to be so secretive with us.” _

You see a momentary strain flash on Jensen’s face and realize it’s mirrored on Misha’s. It never occurred to you that the two of them might actually not  _ want  _ to keep this secret from Jared. You remember how fondly Misha spoke of Jared earlier and the guilt hits you like a brick wall. Making a snap decision your reach a hand out to touch the hand that Misha held the phone in. Misha looks up at you startled. He reads your face, eyebrows knit together in concern.

“Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

_ “Hey, who’s there with you Misha?”  _ Nodding you tilt the phone slightly and move your face into view, being careful to not reveal your current state of undress.

“Hi Jared.” 

You flash a weak smile as you watch Jared squint, trying to make out the details of your face. You can’t imagine he would even remotely recognize you, between the fact that you were likely barely a blip on his radar of fangirls and the fact that your current state was half way between livestream you and put together you. 

Your face is still quite flushed from the exertion. Your lips are devoid of any lipstick but they’re still swollen from all the attention they received. Your eye makeup is still miraculously intact. Your hair, however is an ungodly mess, tufts sticking out here and there, strands stuck to the sweat coating your skin.

Which is why you’re amazed when you see a flare of recognition.

“ _ Oh hey! I remember you! Now I know why Misha was so pissed off after that op.” _

You glance over and see Misha’s eyes squeeze shut.

“Oh really? See, I was under the distinct impression he was only too happy to assist me with getting hugs from other guys. Interesting.” You snuggle into Misha’s side, still being careful to hide your nakedness from the frame.

“Thanks Jar, really.” 

You’re graced with another Padalecki signature laugh. You’re happy to note that there are definite signs of relieved tension on both Jensen and Misha’s faces so you decide to go for broke.

“Jensen you can tell him anything you want to. If you guys trust him then so do I.”

_“Hey wait!_ Jensen _knows everything?_ _What the-”_

_ “Oh hey! Look at that! Time to go board. Have fun you crazy kids.” _

Jensen winks at the screen before tapping the icon to end the call, the last thing you see is a very indignant looking Jared. You finally allow yourself to break into the loud laugh as you roll and flop down on your back.

“Well Jensen’s gonna have fun explaining  _ that. _ Of course first he has to figure out how to get himself cleaned up and appropriately put away.” Misha scoots over so he’s laying on his side up against you. His hand drifts up and lazily brushes the hair from your face. When he speaks again his voice is soft.

“I really appreciate you trusting my judgement. I know it’s not always easy for you.  _ I _ don’t always make it easy for you. Something about you seems to make me throw what little caution I have to the wind.” 

Misha leans down and presses a gentle kiss against your tender lips. It begins almost chaste but getting the taste of you on his lips again seems to have Misha wanting more and he deepens the kiss. As his tongue slips between your lips you allow him to win dominance in the dance, your tongue gently meeting his. This is different still. It’s sweet and tender. There isn’t any command to his movements and at some point you find yourself on equal footing, allowing your tongue to slip between his lips as well to explore.

The burgeoning arousal that is pressing against your thigh shows you how ready Misha is already for another round. Your voice is teasing but soft when you speak.

“I guess I was wrong about older guys lacking stamina.” Misha moves to shift on top of you slowly. You feel him pressing between your legs and are about to direct him to the condoms when you hear a devastating sound.

The fucking alarm on Misha’s phone is going off. Misha drops his head to press his forehead against yours before raising it up again. He shakes away the look of disappointment and pushes himself up to a sitting position.

“Misha…” Geez you really do hate how whiny you sound. “C’mon we don’t need the time to come down. I’m fine! I promise.” Misha smiles down at you before shaking his head.

“Not a chance.” Misha stands before reaching a hand out to you. Begrudgingly you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed before taking his hand and standing. He looks at you appraisingly before he seems to make up his mind.

“How about we shower now so we can sleep a little later and enjoy a relaxing morning?” You nod silently, hoping that your face doesn’t give away the fact that you think a shared shower might lead to more mind blowing sex.

You’re completely wrong in that thought. Misha starts the shower and gets everything ready before escorting you to the shower, helping you in when your legs protest slightly. He soaps you up all over but much to your dismay the touch is loving and careful, not passionate. Even the sounds you make as he massages shampoo and conditioner through your hair and against your scalp aren’t enough to get him going.

Admittedly when Misha runs the washcloth along the inside of your thighs and over your mound your body gives off signals of protest. You become aware of how sore you’ll be shortly, already feeling it as he gently massages your entrance.

You protest briefly when he begins to clean the makeup from your face with a fresh washcloth but the shake of his head and a gentle kiss on your cheek is enough to silence you.

When it’s your turn you manage to behave yourself while you drag your nails against his scalp, working the shampoo through. You even manage it while you soap up the muscles covering every inch of his body. But when you get to his half hard cock you can’t help but pay it a little extra attention, letting the washcloth slip away just a bit so that your fingers make contact as you slide up and down through the suds.

The stern look that Misha gives you draws a pout but wards off your advance. At this point the only punishment you could see him coming up with is leaving altogether and you don’t want to give up what little time you’ve got left. The two of you rinse, the moment your bodies slide against each other as you swap spots being pure torture, and Misha turns off the water. He grabs a towel and gently but efficiently dries your hair and body before wrapping you up and grabbing another.

Misha dries himself off before wrapping the towel around his waist. He grabs your hand and the brush sitting on the counter and leads you out to sit on the bed. Kneeling behind you Misha threads his fingers through your hair, breaking up the worst of the snarls before taking the brush to it. Your eyes drift closed and you relish in the bliss that the pampering brings you. You suspect that Misha is either enjoying the act or enjoying your reaction because it’s quite a while between when the brush stops finding resistance in your hair and when he stops brushing.

“Slide on back for me.” 

Misha props some pillows against the headboard and after you’ve situated yourself he wrestles with the towel briefly to unwrap you before pulling the covers up to your underarms. He kisses your forehead gently before leaving your side. First he goes about cleaning up the discarded cheesecake. Then he collects the other cheesecake from the fridge along with a few grapes and a fresh fork and cold bottle of water before sitting next to you on the edge of the bed.

Settling in to face you Misha first opens the bottle of water and moves to hold it up to your lips. Hesitantly you open for it and he tips the bottle, allowing a slow flow of water to pour into your mouth before pulling it away and setting it down.

“Cheesecake or grape first?” 

You nod toward the fork in his hand, afraid you might be too tempted if Misha’s fingers were that close to your lips. He scoops up a small bite and proceeds to feed you as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. And to be honest, it feels like it is, like his every drive right now is purely to nurture you and comfort you. You feel a warmth building inside you but not the kind that sits low in your belly. This one is firmly settled in your chest. You push away all the thoughts that come with that dangerous realization and just allow yourself to be in the moment.

When you’ve polished off half the cheesecake and most of the bottle of water you find yourself unable to suppress a yawn. Misha pops the grapes into his own mouth before setting the plate down and finishing off the water himself. 

He stands and walks over to his discarded clothes, pulling the loose pants back on but opting to leave the shirt off. He makes his way around to the other side of the bed. Following his lead you scoot down while he crawls into bed beside you. Pulling the blanket up over himself he wraps an arm around you and pulls you toward him. You move to roll over to put your back to him, fully content to be the little spoon but a gentle hand instead turns you so you’re on your side facing him. Tucking one hand under the pillow you rest the other one on the small amount of space left open on the mattress between your chests. Legs become lazily tangled together, the fabric of Misha’s pants soft against your skin. Misha mirrors your hand under the pillow, the other hand moving to draw lazy circles and lines on your arm.

“Probably should have turned the light off first.” You say sleepily as your eyes start to droop.

“I wanted to watch you fall asleep.” Your eyes are fully shut when you feel a soft caress on your cheek. “Is that okay?” You murmur a soft “mhmm” before you shift into a frown.

“Misha, after this weekend-”

“Shhh, we’ll talk when we wake up. Sleep now.”

\---------------------------------

The groan that leaves your lips as you feel the warm body move away from you is loud and unashamed. Sleepily you flop onto your back and stretch. Your limbs are stiff and sore and the ache between your legs threatens discomfort for the rest of the day but you feel zero regrets. You know each twinge will just remind you of the amazing night you spent with Misha. The alarm that had been going off is silenced. You hear the bathroom door close and you curl onto your side and drift back off.

\-----------------------------------

You wake again to the sound of a low voice. Squinting against the light you slowly open your eyes. After a moment to focus you see Misha. You can’t help but be a little sad when you note he’s fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He’s also freshly shaven and currently speaking into the room phone. You don’t catch anything he says though as he hangs up just then.

When Misha notices your eyes are open he smiles before stepping towards you. When he dips down to catch your lips in a kiss you wave him off.

“Morning breath.” You say, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. Misha reaches out to pull your hand gently away.

“Well  _ I’ve _ brushed my teeth and  _ I _ don’t mind your morning breath.” Grinning he dips down to brush a quick kiss across your lips before straightening back up.

“You’re dressed already.” The laugh that your grumpy tone brings only deepens your displeasure.

“Well  _ someone _ fell back asleep. But you looked so content cuddling my pillow I didn’t have the heart to wake you so I figured I would let you sleep while I got everything ready to go.” You look around and see that the whole room has been straightened up and all the clothes and luggage put away. Even your con bag slash travel bag has been repacked. The only thing out is your suitcase which is lying open on the other bed, neatly packed as well. When Misha sees where you are looking he shrugs sheepishly.

“I didn’t know what you were planning to wear to the airport.” You feel a whole new unholy flood of embarrassment.

“I was just going to wear my pajamas.” Squinting at Misha when he laughs at your shame you fire back at him.

“Not all of us have to be worried about being photographed while in public.” 

And there it is. You both sober up at the implication of that. The conversation that’s still left hanging in the air. Scootching up to a sitting position, the blanket tucked under your arms you open your mouth to speak but don’t get a chance.

“I ordered breakfast, it should be here fairly soon. I figured something quick and easy so I just got fruit and muffins.” Misha rifles through your suitcase before turning with a grin, a set of pajamas and undergarments in his hand. “I figured we both enjoyed the fruit last night.”

Standing, you see the brief flash of desire in Misha’s eyes when the blanket drops away. Swallowing hard you take the clothes from his hand and look up at Misha, your expression gentle and kind.

“I’m gonna go make myself decent. But then, we talk.” 

You reach up to brush your hand against his cheek before firming your resolve and walking away. When you’re safely behind the bathroom door you take a moment to steady yourself. It wasn’t supposed to be hard. You’ve known each other for two days and spent barely any time talking. You aren’t some sweet little virgin with high expectations of what’s required to have sex. Feelings shouldn’t have even come into play here. 

After mentally berating yourself you use a damp cloth to towel yourself off before putting deodorant on and getting dressed. While you brush your teeth you briefly contemplate your makeup bag but decide you’d rather not waste any time on that. It’s unlikely anyone will be looking for you now anyway. You drag the brush that Misha had put back in the bathroom at some point through your hair and dab on a little perfume before you gather up your things and leave the bathroom.

You’re just out the door when you hear the knock. Misha waves you off when you reach to answer it. Like the petulant child you are you stick your tongue out at Misha as you walk past. Tossing your toiletry bag into your suitcase you pull the top down and zip it shut. 

When Misha brings the food in you sit back on the bed, your back against the headboard and your legs crossed. Misha follows your lead and places the plate of muffins and the plate of fruit on the bed in front of you. He pours a glass of orange juice for each of you and hands one to you. Settling in mirroring your position on the opposite side of the food Misha sips his juice.

You sit in silence and you become acutely aware that Misha isn’t looking forward to the impending conversation. He picks up a grape and begins rolling it between his fingers. You’re about to speak when he opens his mouth.

“I  _ know  _ this whole thing surprised the both of us and once we got past that we got to a just for the weekend place.” You see him swallow hard, his voice sounding more unsure than you’ve ever heard it. “But what if I’ve changed my mind? What if I want more? What if I’m not ready to give you up?”

“Misha.” The words are coming so hard. “I don’t want to give you up either but what can we really have? This isn’t going to work beyond today.”

“It could. The convention’s over. You don’t have to be worried about being caught anymore. Vicki and I don’t mind if something like this gets out if it’s the right person.” 

The desperation in his voice squeezes at your heart and you do your best to push it away.

“Misha...you  _ know _ how hard this weekend was for me. I don’t do well with that kind of scrutiny. It was absolutely worth it but I can’t live my life like that. I’m going home and I won’t have your protection if people get ahold of my name. Besides, how would it even work? We live no where near each other.”

“I’ve thought about that! I’m always travelling. It would be easy enough to plan trips. I could fly you out and we could shack up in a hotel somewhere for a whole weekend, no interruptions…” The excitement in his voice dies as he see the look on your face.

“I’m not interested in that Misha, I’m sorry. I’m never going to be okay with having you spend money on me. It feels wrong and I’m not budging on that.” 

You wince at the frustration that flashes across his face but it fades quickly so you continue.

“Besides, it would be only a matter of time before we got caught. Some well meaning fan or some photographer would catch us. If...if this was going to be something more...but it isn’t. We both know that and that’s okay. But this family? This fandom? It means too much to me and I can’t lose it.”

“Can we still talk? You’ve got my number…” he trails off again. 

You curse under your breath and struggle once more for words but finally you just decide to lay it all out on the table.

“You’ve no idea the real effect that you have on people, do you?” Misha’s brow knits together. “You’re...you’re a friggin addiction.” You shake your head when he starts to talk. “I’m not talking Misha the actor slash male model that everyone lusts after. I’m talking you, everything about you. The things you say, the things you do, the way you make people feel when they’re around you, make  _ me  _ feel. I could get so lost in you, every moment spent waiting for the next text to come.” 

You search your mind for a way to explain.

“When you send out a tweet that you’re going to livestream, people will sit at their computers just waiting, everything else suddenly becoming just a little less important. I know, I’ve done it. That’s what you are. When you’re in a room everything else becomes a little bit dull. And it’s not a bad thing. If I could have all of you, if I was free to give you all of me, I would in a heartbeat. But that isn’t the case.” 

You watch as you can practically see the wheels turning in Misha’s head as he processes this. You can tell he isn’t giving up without a fight. When he grabs onto an idea you can see that plain as day too.

“What about if we scheduled it, just once a week? We could plan for the following week each time so that it’s never a concern that one of us might not be available. It doesn’t have to be anything more than a hello if you want. We can figure it out from there.” 

The pleading in his bright blue eyes has your resolve melting fast. It couldn’t hurt to try. Could it?

“Okay, we can give it a shot. But if it doesn’t work then we both agree to let it be?” 

Misha nods reluctantly. You can see a small weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Smiling as he munches on the fruit in earnest you decide to let him in on your secret.

“I figure next year we can plan a little bit better and things will be a lot smoother.” You feign innocence at his questioning expression. “Oh, did I forget to mention that I reupped for next Nashcon?” 

What ensues next can only be described as a middle school food fight as Misha fires off a grape and your return fire with a strawberry. When the dust settles there’s fruit everywhere and the two of you are snuggled up together on the clean bed, munching happily away at muffins. 

You stay there, even after you’re done, holding each other. At times it's gentle and relaxed. At others it’s clingy and desperate. You stay this way, speaking softly, stealing kisses, Misha admiring his handwork on your exposed skin. At one point you glance at your phone reluctantly before picking it up and turning it over and over in your hands.

“Misha? I know it’s different, having you on my phone. It’s more of a risk for you and you really have to trust me. Would it..would it be okay if I had a couple of pictures of us on my phone? I promise I won’t share.” 

Misha smiles, his eyes gentle, as he takes your phone from your hand.

“Of course, I’m glad you want them.” 

You decide not to address the vulnerability that is expressed in that phrase, as if there might be a chance you didn’t want something to remember him by. He maneuvers your phone to the camera screen before holding it up. When he is happy with the angle he leans in, nudging your head to the side to expose your neck. Your eyes drift shut as he gently sucks at the skin there, the click of the camera reminding you of what is happening. Misha pulls away slightly and when you turn to face him he leans in to capture your lips in a kiss before you hear another click.

“If I’d known you wanted pictures I would have taken some more compromising ones for you.” His mischievous grin returns. “If you’d like I’ll send the recording Jensen made of our call.” You nod shyly and you return to your previous activities until the clock on the table reads 12:30PM.

Reluctantly you part to stand, each of you gathering your belongings.

“We could go to the airport together.”

“Misha, you know we can’t. Do you really think this would be the  _ one  _ time you don’t get spotted at an airport?”

“At least let me walk you to a cab.” You look at him sadly, trying to convey with your face that you’re feeling the same distress as him.

“No, Misha. You know there are probably still people from the convention here. I’m not the only one that prefers to leave the day after. You head out first. I’ll text you when I get to the airport. There should be no chance of us running into each other since we’re on different airlines. Then we wait til Friday.” 

You try hard but you just can’t keep the shake from your voice. You aren’t sure when the roles switched and you became the one who did the comforting but you’ve just about hit your maximum control for the weekend.

Misha of course notices the change in your voice immediately. He grips your arm and pulls you into a hard embrace. You nuzzle against his shirt, determined to take in as much of his scent as you can. Part of you considers asking for a piece of clothing. You decide not to, knowing that when the scent wears away it would just make you sad but you  _ do _ smile when you remember that somewhere Misha has an article of your clothing.

Pulling back slightly you look up into Misha’s eyes. 

“Time to say goodbye.” 

He shakes his head before tightening his grip and landing a crushing kiss full of desperation and need against your lips. You stay that way for a full five minutes, lips and hands getting their last fill before Misha finally pulls away. He swallows hard before tearing his gaze away.

When he looks around the room Misha lets out a small chuckle before pulling out his wallet. Neither of you had taken the time to clean up after your epic food fight. He pulls out four twenties and lays them on the dresser. He leans his head forward and presses his forehead against you, his eyes squeezed shut, the last time you’ll bear witness to this endearing little habit for a while. 

He pulls away, planting one last soft kiss against your lips before turning and heading for the door, luggage in hand. He looks over his shoulder one last time and flashes that heartstopping wink before the door swings shut and he’s gone.

You’ll never admit it, if pressed by Misha, but you spend the next ten minutes sitting on the edge of the bed crying. How you managed to stave it off that long is beyond you. You just knew that if Misha saw you break that you’d never shake him.

When the clock reads 12:50PM you go to the bathroom to splash water on your face before gathering your things and heading through the hotel to the concierge stand. You had done your check out online so you wouldn’t have to leave earlier. You’re both grateful and sad to see that Misha has already left. When you get to the airport you send a brief text before you put your phone away.

As you watch out the window when the plane finally starts to taxi you reflect on the weekend. It had a few rough spots. Most of them of your own making. But it isn’t hard to come to the realization that you wouldn’t have traded a single moment of it. It amazes you when you realize how much Misha had changed you, specifically how you felt about yourself, in such a short time. Seeing yourself through his eyes was a gift you would cherish always.

\--------------------------

It’s three days later that you find yourself swearing a blue streak as you send off an angry text to Misha. You just got the final hotel statement in your email. He hadn’t just paid for the late check out or even the room service he had shared with you. He had paid for the whole damn thing, almost $1,500. After the first angry text you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt and ask if they had made a mistake.

_ Not telling. _

Glaring at the phone you punch out an angry response.

_ Don’t text me back. _

Quickly followed by:

_ I’ll talk to you Friday. _

God that man is infuriating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it folks. This journey into my first attempt at writing fic has been so much more than I expected and that is largely due to the kind people who have taken the journey with me. Truly the feedback and the kudos, the kind words. It kept me going many times when I thought I wasn't going to be able to move forward.
> 
> I also want to thank my wonderful Beta Reader DaydreamDestiel. It was her encouragement that convinced me to try it out, her patience when I was expressing doubt, and her willingness to not point out my allergy to contractions and paragraphs. She also happens to be one of my favorite fic writers out there so you should definitely check her out.
> 
> As promised I fully intend on turning this into a series but I don't expect there to be anything as in depth as this one. I also think I want to try a new story line before jumping into that But since I've already got a crap load plotted in my head for the series who knows. 
> 
> I would love feedback as far as what to work on next. I've got one that is along a similar vein as this and one that is completely different.
> 
> So tell me what you thought! Was it worth the build? Was the end too angsty or just right?
> 
> Come see me on Tumbler http://spnbrennafae.tumblr.com/ I love chatting with people and need more fic writers to follow.


	9. Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just an announcement

Sorry to throw this on here but I wanted to make sure that everyone knew I've changed this into a series and I've added the first text conversation following the con. So if you want to continue following, which I hope you do cause I love you all, then I suggest subscribing to the series. Hope to see you all in the comment section! <3


	10. OMG Fan Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Place for Fan Art of the series

OMG I got my first fan art based on my writing! Squeeee! It was done by @Supernatastic101 Go Check them out on Tumblr!

"This is how I imagine Misha looks at the reader while they are intimate."

**Author's Note:**

> Chpt 2 coming in the next couple of days

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bad Luck Turned Sexual](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7620769) by [Supernatastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernatastic/pseuds/Supernatastic)




End file.
